THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


THE   JESTERS 


THE  JESTERS 

A  SIMPLE  STORY  IN  FOUR  ACTS  OF  VERSE 
ADAPTED  FROM  THE  FRENCH  OF 

MIGUEL  ZAMACOiS 

BY 

JOHN  N.  RAPHAEL 


NEW  YORK 
BRENTANO'S 

1908 


COPYRIGHT,  1908,   BY    BRENTANo's 


D.  B.  UPDIKE,    THE   MEHRYMOUNT   PRESS,    BOSTON 


THE   FIRST  ACT 


DRAMATIS    PERSONAE 

RENE    DE   CHANCENAC   (afterwards  C H I C O T) 

NICOLE 

SOLANGE  DE  MAUTPRE 

VULCANO 

BARON   DE   MAUTPRE 

ROBERT  DE  BELFONTE  (afterwards  NARCISSUS) 

OLIVER 
BAROCO 


-jesters 


JACK   PUDDING 
HILARIUS 
JACQUES ' 

JULIAN      -  servants  of  the  BARON  DE  MAUTPRE 

PIERRE 

HUBERT,  servant  to  RENE  DE  CHANCENAC 
A  Pedlar,  tyc. 

The  story  runs  its  course  in  France  in  the  year  1557 


THE    JESTERS 

ACT   FIRST 

The  scene  is  a  large  hall  in  a  picturesque  old  castle 
which  has  seen  better  days.  A  large  window  at  the 
back  of  the  stage  opens  on  to  a  broad  stone  terrace, 
overgrown  with  moss  and  showing  signs  of  age  and 
dilapidation.  Green  creepers  and  roses  frame  the 
window,  through  which  a  bright  sun  shines  and  piti- 
lessly discloses  the  lack  of  comfort  and  need  of  re- 
pairs. The  furniture,  of  which  there  is  very  little, 
bears  eloquent  witness  to  the  poverty  of  the  BARON 
DE  MAUTPRE,  owner  of  the  castle.  There  is  a  stair- 
case on  the  right,  leading  up  to  a  small  door.  Under 
the  stairs  is  another  small  door  opening  on  to  the 
stairs  down  to  the  cellar.  Both  of  these  staircases  are 
used. 

At  the  rise  of  the  curtain  s  ACQUES,JU  LI  ATS, PIERRE 
and  NICOLE  are  discovered. 

JULIAN 
rLiGHTEEN  months'  wages  due,  and  not  a  penny 

piece. 
(To  JACQUES)  Speak  up  for  us. 

JACQUES 
*T  is  time  this  worrying  should  cease; 


4  THE  JESTERS 

Because,  forsooth,  I  can  say  what  I  want  to  say, 
I  have  to  risk  my  place  by  dunning  for  our  pay. 

NICOLE 

You  are  of  all  of  us  the  cleverest,  you  see. 
You  are  the  one  to  speak.  You  speak  convincingly. 

JACQUES 

No !  I  am  tired  of  it.  My  voice  alone  is  heard, 
I  am  the  grumbler.  You  never  vouchsafe  a  word. 
You're  bright  enough,  Nicole.  Julian  is  not  a 

dunce. 
When  the  time  comes  to-day,  let's  all  four  speak  at 

once. 

PIERRE 

Hush!  Dr.  Oliver! 

Enter  OLIVER 

OLIVER 

Come,  come,  my  friends,  to  work ! 
For  the  last  day  or  two  everyone  seems  to  shirk 
All  that  there  is  to  do. 

(To  JULIAN)  What  have  you  done  to-day? 

JULIAN 

Fed  the  ass. 

OLIVER,  to  NICOLE 

Have  you  swept? 


ACT  FIRST  5 

NICOLE,  crossly 

Ev'ry one's  in  the  way. 

OLIVER,  laughing 
Dame  Nicole's  out  of  sorts. 

(To  all)  Come,  come,  there's  work  to  do. 
Put  off  these  sulky  airs,  set  to  it  all  of  you. 
(Pointing  to  stones  which  are  heaped  up  under  the 
archway  at  the  back  of  the  stage) 
Where  do  these  stones  come  from? 

JACQUES 
(Pointing  to  the  arch)  They  fell  out  in  the  night. 

OLIVER 
Ah,  yes!  The  castle's  old. 

(Looking  up)  Well,  we'll  have  this  put  right. 
But  you  must  not  forget,  when  you  pass;  more  may 
fall. 

JACQUES 

All  the  walls  shed  their  stones.  This  is  no  house 
at  all. 

OLIVER 

What  is  it,  pray? 

JACQUES 
A  sieve.  When  the  wind  blows  at  night, 


6  THE   JESTERS 

None  of  us  close  an  eye;  some  are  half  dead  with 
fright. 

OLIVER 

Why? 

JACQUES 

Why?  Because,  instead  of  crumbling  bits  away, 
The  whole  house  will  fall  in  when  it  blows  hard  one 
day. 

NICOLE 

Yes.  And  that's  not  the  worst,  for  if  the  walls 

could  tell 

What  they  have  heard  us  say — all  our  complaints — 

(She  sighs)  Ah !  well ! 

OLIVER 

You  are  cared  for  and  fed !  What  more  can  you  de- 
sire ? 

JACQUES 
Wages ! 

NICOLE 

Yes! 

PIERRE  and  JULIAN 
Yes! 

JACQUES 

We  have  all  earned  and  want  our  hire. 


ACT  FIRST  7 

OLIVER 

Ah!  All  your  heads  are  thick  and  all  your  hearts 
are  hard 

As  the  stones  fallen  there. 

(Struck  by  a  sudden  idea,  to  JACQUES) 

With  them  we  '11  pave  the  yard. 

(To  the  malcontents) 

Surely  you  know  how  poor  all  of  the  tenants  be, 

And  that  the  harvest 's  poor,  doubling  their  pov- 
erty! 

None  of  the  rents  are  paid  our  coffers  here  to  fill. 

Why,  for  those  of  three  years  ago  we  're  waiting  still ! 

What  does  the  Baron  do  ?  Summon  his  men-at-arms, 

Harry  the  countryside,  go  down  and  sack  the  farms? 

No.  Many  times  have  I  seen  him  in  anger  rise, 

Ready  for  war,  then  pause,  and  with  tears  in  his 
eyes 

Shake  his  head,  smile,  and  then:  "Oliver,11  he  will 
say, 

"Call  me  my  soldiers  back." 

JACQUES 

Soldiers,  but  where  are  they  ? 
Every  day  we  hear  trumpeters  sound  the  call, 
But  when  the  call  does  sound  there  are  no  men  at  all. 
No  doubt  the  farmer  hears,  trembles  there  on  his 
farm, 


8  THE   JESTERS 

Thinks  you  have  men,  but  we  know  and  feel  no 

alarm. 

Ah!  Mautpre's  tiger-claw  no  longer  strikes  to  kill, 
And  when  the  pow'r  is  lost,  what  is  the  use  of  will  ? 
Army  forsooth!  Our  lord  owns  just  one  man,  and 

he 

Is  all  our  foot,  our  horse,  infantry,  cavalry, 
General,  Colonel,  drums,  linesman,  and  sentry-go. 
And  what  a  man  for  all  these  posts  is  Vulcano! 
This  great  Italian  who  bullies  and  bates  us  all, 
Half  soldier,  half  bravo !  When  he  patrols  the  wall, 
Down  in  the  country  lanes  villagers  pause  and  say : 
"Strange  that  we  only  see  one  sentry  ev'ry  day." 

OLIVER 
Do  they  say  that? 

NICOLE 

They  do,  and  many  want  to  know 
Why  the  same  man  is  always  upon  sentry-go. 

OLIVER 
Ah,  yes!  The  mice  may  squeak,  but  when  the  cat 

appears, 
Into  their  holes  they  pop — Vulcano  each  one  fears. 

NICOLE 

Vulcano?  What,  that  great  long  scraggy  braggart1 
Why, 


ACT  FIRST  9 

Not  a  field  mouse,  Fm  sure,  before  his  sword  would 

fly. 
Don't   you  remember  how,  gone  to  collect   the 

dues, 
Vulcano  hurried  back  pelted  with  wooden  shoes  ? 

OLIVER 
Take  care  he  hears  you  not! 

JACQUES 

None  of  us  for  him  care, 

But  can  you  say  as  much?  Else  why  do  you  for- 
bear 

To  punish  for  his  faults  this  ever  drunken  sot, 
With  his  Italian  oaths  ?  His  is  a  happy  lot. 

OLIVER 

He  has  fought  much  and  well,  been  through  some 
twenty  wars. 

NICOLE 
Says  so  himself,  no  doubt! 

OLIVER,  angrily 

Woman,  I've  seen  his  scars! 
Merely  a  sight  of  him  strikes  terror  all  around 
As  with  his  martial  tread  his  mailed  foot  spurns  the 

ground. 
He 's  our  protector. 


10  THE   JESTERS 

JACQUES 

.     Tcha!  As  oft  I've  said  before, 
All  that  protects  us,  sir,  is  the  great  castle  door. 

OLIVER,  angrily 
Silence ! 
(JACQUES  makes  as  though  he  would  go  on  arguing') 

Be  still,  I  say !  I  and  your  master  know 
We  have  a  hundred  men  in  one  in  Vulcano. 

NICOLE 

If  he's  a  hundred  men,  why  are  we  always  sent 
With  him  when  he's  on  guard,  on  to  the  battlement 
To  play  at  soldiers?  (Imitating)  March!  pacing  to 

left  and  right, 

Carrying  pikes  by  day,  torches  and  lamps  at  night. 
Why,  too,  unless  to  seem  double  our  numbers,  do 
You  make  us  all  not  one  pike  or  torch  bear,  but  two  ? 
Surely  your  paladin,  if  he  be  worth  a  score 
Of  men-at-arms,  on  guard  can  have  no  need  of 

more! 

OLIVER 
Where,  now,  is  Vulcano?  In  the  watch-tower? 


JACQUES 

Ho! 


Down  in  the  cellar. 


ACT   FIRST  11 

OLIVER,  startled 

Why?  What  there  does  Vulcano? 

JACQUES,  grinning 
He  said  he'd  gone  to  drink  all  the  sad  thoughts 

away 
Which  had  been  troubling  him  since  he  had  drawn 

no  pay; 

Said  that  to  dry  his  eyes  of  their  regretful  brine, 
As  he  could  draw  no  pay,  he'd  go  and  draw  your 

wine. 

OLIVER,  startled 
Drinking!  But  Vulcano,  when  drunk,  is  mad,  and 

takes 
No  care  of  what  he  does,  whom  he  hurts,  what  he 

breaks. 
We  must  be  quiet,  friends,  try  not  to  rouse  him, 

for 
Like  a  wild  beast  aroused  from  his  lair,  through 

that  door 
He  would  come  storming  up. 

(JACQUES,  NICOLE,  and  the  others  exchange  a  look 
of  intelligence,  and  all  shout  together  at  the  top  of 
their  voices) 

JACQUES,  NICOLE, JULIAN,  and  PIERRE 

Pay  us  our  wages! 


12  THE  JESTERS 

OLIVER 

Oh! 

Softly,  my  friends,  I  beg! 

(In  a  panic)  Ah!  Here  is  Vulcano! 
I  '11  to  the  Baron !  (He  runs  off) 

PIERRE 

There !  Master  will  come,  now,  too ! 
He  will  be  angry  and — 

JACQUES 

Coward!  Here's  a  to-do. 
Lady  Solange  will  come,  too,  on  her  father's  arm. 

NICOLE 
Yes !  And  she  will  not  let  us  poor  folk  come  to  harm. 

JULIAN 
No.  She  is  sweet  and  kind. 

PIERRE 
Yes,  but  in  case  you  know — 

NICOLE 
Here  is  the  Baron !  She's  not  with  him. 

JACQUES 

Let  us  go ! 

(All  run  out  together.  Enter  the  BARON  DE  MAUT- 
PRE  and  OLIVER) 


ACT   FIRST  13 

MAUTPRE 

As  long  as  Vulcano  lies  sleeping  down  below, 
The  others  will  not  dare  to  brave  us,  will  they? 

OLIVEE 

No. 

But  how  I  wish,  my  lord,  we  dared  a  little  more, 
Dared  rid  us  of  this  great  braggart  who  irks  us  sore, 
This  long  Italian,  this — 

MAUTPRE,  with  some  impatience 

Aye!  But  I  fain  would  know 
What  is  due  to  the  men,  and  what  to  Vulcano. 

OLIVER 
To  the  men  and  Nicole  eighteen  months,  if  not 

more, 
Eighteen  months  and  some  weeks. 

MAUTPRE 

To  the  Italian? 

OLIVER 

Four. 

MAUTPRE 

Twenty-two  months  in  all.  And  what  can  we  afford 
To  pay  them  in  hard  cash? 

OLIVER 

Nothing  at  all,  my  lord. 


14  THE   JESTERS 

MAUTPRE 

Good.  Do  not  look  surprised.  The  matter  stands 

this  way: 

Nothing  at  all  we  have,  so  nothing  can  we  pay ; 
Had  we  a  little  we  half  could  pay  and  half  owe, 
Could  satisfy  the  men  and  enrage  Vulcano, 
Or  the  Italian  pay,  and — there  it  is  again — 
By  paying  him  alone  enrage  our  honest  men. 
Therefore  as  it  is  clear  with  cash  we  cannot  pay, 
We  fain,  my  Oliver,  must  find  another  way. 

OLIVER 

Another  way,  my  lord,  we  fain  must  find.  But  still 
I  know  of  naught  but  cash  an  empty  purse  to  fill. 

MAUTPRE 

And  what  is  speech  made  for  ?  I  have  seen  dying 

men 

At  a  mere  spoken  word  rise  up  and  fight  again. 
I  have  seen  hungry  men  with  a  word  sated  be, 
Angry  men  calmed,  and  calm  men  rise  up  angrily. 
Speech  is  more  than  mere  coin  fitted  the  heart  to 

reach. 
We  have  no  money,  friend,  but  we  have  gift  of 

speech, 

And  with  the  gift  of  speech  I  possess  you  shall  see 
This  small  household  revolt  finish  quite  peacefully. 


ACT   FIRST  15 

OLIVER 

What  will  you  tell  them? 

MAUTPRE 

I  shall,  when  they  come,  unfold 
The  tale  of  swift  alarms,  quick  flight,  and  hidden 

gold, 
Which,  as  you  know,  maintains  that  treasure  will 

be  found 
On  the  de  Mautpre  lands  buried  deep  in  the  ground. 

OLIVER 
But  is  the  legend  true? 

MAUTPRE,  with  dignity 

That,  sir,  I  do  not  know. 
But  I  am  very  sure  they  will  believe  it  so. 
Summon  them,  nothing  else  can  I  devise  to  do. 

OLIVER,  at  the  door 

Jacques,  Nicole,  Julian,  Pierre,  my  lord  would  speak 
with  you ! 

Enter  JACQUES,  PIERRE,  JULIAN,  NICOLE.  All  are 
in  evident  fear  of  the  BARON,  and  dare  not  speak 

MAUTPRE 

Now  then!  What  do  you  want?  Will  no  one  say 
the  word? 


16  THE   JESTERS 

JULIAN 

Nothing,  sir. 

MAUTPRE 

Nothing? 

PIERRE 

No,  nothing  at  all,  my  lord. 

JACQUES 
Nothing,  that  is,  except — 

NICOLE,  desperately 

Nothing  except  our  pay. 

(The  BARON  makes  an  angry  gesture) 

JACQUES 

Oh !  not  at  once,  my  lord.  When  it  may  suit,  some 
day. 

MAUTPRE,  to  OLIVER  in  feigned  surprise 
Are  they  not  paid? 

OLIVER 
My  lord,  not  since  December  last. 

NICOLE 
Not  since  October,  sir. 

MAUTPRE 

Ah !  How  the  time  has  passed ! 
Welllyou  shall  all  be  paid;  but,  as  you  have  been  told, 


ACT  FIRST  17 

Farm  rents  are  due,  and  I  at  present  have  no  gold. 
No  gold  at  hand,  that  is,  for  if  I  knew  but  where, 
On  my  land,  chests  of  gold,  jewels  beyond  compare, 
Lie  waiting  for  me  which  centuries  three  ago 
Hector  de  Mautpre  hid,  as  you  all  doubtless  know. 

NICOLE 
Nay,  my  lord,  we  know  naught. 

MAUTPRE 

Listen  then.  One  dark  night 
Rose  from  the  farms  down  there  one  long  scream 

of  affright 

Out  of  the  darkness,  and,  stricken  with  swift  alarm, 
Women  and  men  rushed  out,  out  of  each  house  and 

farm, 
Up  to  the  castle  gates,  and  made  the  night  air 

ring 
With  their  cries : "  Help,  my  lord !  Save  us,  my  lord ! 

The  King!" 
For  those  days,  you  must  know,  were  not  the  days 

of  peace, 
And  the  King,  fearing  that  Mautpre's  wealth  would 

increase 

Until  my  ancestor  should  grasp  the  regal  pow'r, 
Had  sent  his  soldiers  down.  Mautpre,  within  the 

hour, 


18  THE   JESTERS 

Mustered  his  men  within,  calmed  all  the  fear  with- 
out, 

Formed  a  great  army,  put  the  King's  armed  men  to 
rout, 

And,  lest  they  should  return,  buried  his  treasure 
deep 

Down  in  a  sheltered  spot  under  the  castle  keep. 

Just  where  that  treasure  lies,  no  man  has  ever  found, 

But   I   know  that   it   lies  somewhere  below  the 
ground. 

Treasure  of  coined  gold,  jewels  beyond  compare, 

In  mighty  chests,  brassbound,  for  me  lie  waiting 
there. 

Soon  we  shall  dig  them  up — 

(  With  sudden  farceness  he  turns  on  the  servants  who 
shrink  before  it) 

Now,  sirs !  The  truth  ye  know, 

Know  that  you  will  be  paid.  Why  are  you  waiting? 
Go! 

(They  huddle   together  and  make  for  the  door. 
MAUTPRE  turns  to  OLIVER) 

It  was  not  hard  to  stem  the  storm  of  discontent 

With  a  few  words,  you  see,  spoken  with  that  in- 
tent. 

OLIVER 
Aye,  but  the  treasure? 


ACT  FIRST  19 

.   MAUTPRE,  laughing 

That,  till  it  is  found,  will  sleep 
And  be  food  for  their  dreams  down  there  below  the 

keep. 

(A  tremendous  uproar  is  heard  from  the  cellar  below) 
Beshrew  my  ears !  What 's  that? 

OLIVER 

It  came  up  from  below ! 

NICOLE,  peeping  down  the  cellar  stairs 
Oh!  let  us  fly!  He's  drunk! 

JACQUES 

Or  mad ! 

OLIVER 

Who? 

JACQUES 

Vulcano ! 

(VULCANO,  noisily  drunk,  staggers  on  to  the  stage 
through  the  little  door  leading  to  the  cellar  stairs, 
and,  leaning  against  a  pillar,  looks  around  him  at 
the  BARON,  OLIVER,  and  the  servants) 

MAUTPRE 

Whence  come  you,  sirrah!  Why  such  a  wild  air? 
Explain ! 


20  THE  JESTERS 

VULCANO 

I  come  from  death. 

MAUTPRE,  coldly 
Indeed? 

OLIVER,  aside 

Would  he  were  back  again ! 

VULCANO 

with  abundant  gesture,  exciting  himself  as  he  goes  on 
Aye,  sirs,  I  come  from  death.  Down  in  the  cellar 

there 

From  my  sleep  I  awoke.  A  blast  of  icy  air 
Circled  me.  'T  was  the  cloak  of  a  gigantic  form, 
Clad  in  a  coat  of  mail.  Out  of  the  freezing  storm 
Circling  it,  it  advanced,  threat'ning,  without  a  word. 
I  stood  back  to  the  wall,  and  sirs, 
{Slowly ',  solemnly,  and  with  drunken  emphasis) 

I  drew  my  sword, 
(Suiting  the  action  to  the  words) 
Cut  and  thrust!  Whoop!  Sa,  ha!  I  advanced.  He 

retired, 
Thrust  in  carte,  point,  and  tierce,  eye  nor  wrist 

neither  tired. 

For  a  full  hour  we  fought  in  the  dark  there  below, 
Till  with  both  hands  he  dealt  me  such  a  mighty 

blow 


ACT   FIRST  21 

Full  on  the  sconce,  that  I  staggered  and  with  both 

hands 
Clung  to  a  pillar.  (Showing  his  hands)  See!  These 

were  as  iron  bands. 

I  was  a  Samson,  for  down  came  the  pillar  tall, 
And  I,  my  lord,  came  up  to  you  here  in  the  hall, 
For  't  was  an  omen !  I  came  to  relate  the  curse 
Which  must  fall  on  Mautpre  out  of  my  empty 

purse ! 

MAUTPRE 
How  prick  this  windbag? 

OLIVER 
Hush!  He's  drunk,  my  lord.  Beware! 

VULCANO 

Daggers  and  swords  1  I  stand !  Oliver,  hand  a  chair ! 
(OLIVER  does  so  in  spite  of  the  BARON'S  annoyance) 
Ah!  I'mathirst! 

MAUTPRE 

Again!  Nay,  sir,  you've  drunk  enough. 
(OLIVER  takes  beaker  and  goblet  from  table) 

VULCANO,  with  dignity 

I  thirst,  sir,  for  respect,  not  for  the  weakling  stuff 
Which  you  miscall  your  wine.  Aye!  and  I'll  have 
it  too, 


22  THE   JESTERS 

Or  I  (he  goes  to  the  pillar)  will  pull  your  walls  down 

on  the  top  of  you. 

Nay,  never  sneer !  Enough !  I  am  awrath  today ! 
Give  me  the  gold  you  owe,  or  by  the  saints — 
(He  raises  his  sword) 

OLIVER 

Nay,  nay! 

No  bloodshed,  Vulcano! 
(He  hands  him  a  purse)  Here  is  your  guerdon. 

(To  the  BARON)  I 

Give  him  eight  golden  crowns,  money  I  had  put  by 
Last  week  for  stores  of  food. 

JACQUES,  to  the  other  servants 

See!  They 're  afraid! 

(Aloud)  And  we! 
Where  is  our  pay  ? 

VULCANO,  turning  fiercely 
What  now?  That  will  come  presently, 
Next  week,  next  month,  next  year — 

JACQUES 

But  we — 

VULCANO 

I  '11  grind  the  bone 
Into  dust  of  the  man  who  dares  to  raise  his  tone. 


ACT   FIRST  23 

NICOLE 

But  our  good  gold ! 

VULCANO 

Be  still!  Form  up  in  line  there!  So! 

Who  are  ye  dare  mistrust  the  word  of  Vulcano ! 

Baron,  pray  understand,  not  your  gold  did  prevail 

Against  my  anger.  Naught  but  respect  could  avail. 

Now  then!  Your  halberds,  quick!  Strange  are  a 
man's  affairs, — 

I,  Vulcano,  command  a  regiment  of  hares ! 

(VULCANO  arms  the  three  men  and  NICOLE  with 
two  halberds  and  a  helmet  apiece,  and  forms  them 
into  line.  Plenty  of  comic  business  may  be  introduced 
here) 

VULCANO 
By  the  right,  march! 

NICOLE 
Oh!  Oh!  Pierre,  you  are  joggling  me! 

VULCANO 
Silence !  Per  Bacco !  Now !  By  your  right,  one,  two, 

three ! 

Up  the  stairs,  and  so,  out !  I  follow  last  of  all. 
March!  One,  two,  three!  And  out  on  to  the  castle 

wall! 


24  THE  JESTERS 

NICOLE 

I  am  afraid ;  my  heart  for  very  fear  is  sore, 
What  can  a  woman  do  under  arms? 

VULCANO 

Make  one  more! 
Forward — March ! 

(Exeunt  the  Jour  servants  and  VULCANO  up  the 
stairs  leading  to  the  battlements) 

OLIVER 

God  be  thanked  that  they  are  gone  at  last! 
Some  good  is  Vulcano!  There's  one  more  danger  past. 

MAUTPRE 

Now  will  I  hie  me  back  to  my  account  books.  You, 
Oliver,  try  to  fell  just  one  more  tree  or  two. 

SOLANGE 

who  has  entered  just  in  time  to  hear  this  last  order 
Poor  trees! 

MAUTPRE 
Solange ! 

SOLANGE 

I  heard  sounds  of  strife  here,  methought. 

MAUTPRE,  carelessly 

Our  servant  Vulcano  had  not  done  what  he  ought. 
Well,  I  must  go. 


ACT   FIRST  25 

SOLANGE 

My  lord — 

MAUTPRE 

My  child? 

SOLANGE 

*T  was  in  my  mind 
To  ask  a  boon,  but — 

MAUTPRE,  smiling 
But? 

SOLANGE 

I  can  no  courage  find. 

MAUTPRE,  uneasily 
Boons  mean  expense. 

OLIVER,  aside 

Poor  child;  I  fear  her  slightest  whim, 
Cost  what  it  may,  will  cost  much,  too  much  far,  for 
him. 

SOLANGE 
Nay,  father,  'twill  cost  naught.  But  I  do  long  to 

hear 
News  of  the  feast  to  which,  by  our  next  neighbour 

dear, 
We  were  bid  yesterday.  There  are  to  be,  I  'm  told, 


26  THE   JESTERS 

Sorcerers  there,  a  witch,  a  tourney  for  the  bold 
Knights  of  the  neighbourhood.  Oh !  I  'm  afire  to  go. 
I  must  prepare  me,  sire.  How  did  you  answer? 

MAUTPRE 

No! 

SOLANGE 

Father!  You  have  refused  ? 

MAUTPRE 

Yes,  my  child.  You  forget 
Your  tender  years,  my  girl ;  the  time  has  not  come 

yet 
For  jousts  and  tourneys. 

SOLANGE 

But— 

MAUTPRE,  crossly 

I  have  said  "  no."  Enough. 

Let  me  hear  naught  again  of  tourneys  and  such 
stuff. 

(Exit    MAUTPRE.    OLIVER    looTfS    CUlioUsty  at    SO- 
LANGE, who,  after  a  moment ,  bursts  into  tears) 

SOLANGE 

Let  us  seek,  Oliver.  Perchance  we  two  may  find 
Why,  loving  me,  my  lord  is  sometimes  so  unkind. 


ACT  FIRST  27 

OLIVER 

Nay,  not  unkind,  my  child ;  you  are  but  seventeen. 

SOLANGE 
Old  enough  that,  old  friend,  of  jousts  to  be  the 

queen. 

No,  there  is  something  else ;  'tis  my  heart  tells  me  so. 
Father's  eyes  shouted  "yes"  while  his  lips  muttered 

"no.1' 
Why,  knowing  as  he  knew  what  joy  consent  would 

give, 
Did  he  of  that  delight  his  little  girl  deprive? 

OLIVER 
Now,  now,  you  know  full  well — 

SOLANGE 

Oliver,  I  believe 

My  second  father,  too,  would  his  Solange  deceive. 
There  are  tears  in  your  eyes  because  my  eyes  are  dim; 
Father's  eyes,  too,  were  moist  when  I  looked  up  at 

him. 
What  does  it  mean? 

OLIVER,  affected 
My  child ! 

SOLANGE,  nestling  to  him 

Whisper  that  once  again 


28  THE   JESTERS 

Down  in  your  heart,  then  say  if  you  would  give  me 

pain. 

Since  mother  went  to  rest  in  paradise  above, 
From  you  I  Ve  had,  dear  friend,  almost  a  mother's 

love. 

You  fondled  me,  and  with  your  finger  in  my  hand 
I  learned  to  walk  and  run  when  I  had  learned  to 

stand. 

And  once  when,  fever-rid,  I  tossed  upon  my  bed, 
You,  Oliver,  sat  by,  cooling  my  aching  head, 
Whispering  gentle  words,  scolding  in  accents  mild, 
Chafing  the  icy  feet  of  a  small  suffering  child. 
To  make  me  laugh  how  oft  on  all  fours  you  would 

crawl; 

With  you  I  first  went  out  on  to  the  castle  wall; 
You  have  enjoyed  my  joys,  sorrowed  at  my  distress, 
And  in  my  prison  have  brightened  my  loneliness. 

OLIVER 
Loneliness?  Prison? 

SOLANGE 

Aye.  I  am  no  baby  now. 

Why  should  my  father  not,  like  other  sires,  allow 
Me  some  slight  freedom?  Why?  Why  should  I 

lonely  brood 
Here  in  this  castle's  grim,  unfriendly  solitude? 


ACT   FIRST  29 

OLIVER,  reproachfully 
Solitude? 

SOLANGE 

Oliver,  do  you  remember  how 
Over  a  year  ago,  just  eighteen  months  't  is  now, 
We  wandered,  you  and  I,  down  a  tree- vaulted  glade 
In  the  wood,  towards  the  brook,  old  man  and  little 

maid? 

All  was  asleep.  The  leaves  upon  the  trees  were  stijl, 
The  flowers  slumbered  each  with  curled  bent  head. 

The  hill 

Rose  in  the  calm  of  sleep  over  the  valley,  glowed 
Green,  tipped  with  gold  sunlight.  Even  the  pale 

white  road, 
Dust-laden,  slept  in  peace;  for  the  wind  slumbered, 

and 

The  brook's  wee  wavelets  sang  songs  of  a  far  dream- 
land. 
All  the  birds  sweetly  slept,  each  in  its  feathered 

nest. 

Nature  was  hushed,  was  taking  her  well-earned  rest 
After  the  storm  of  winter.  Then  with  gentle  thrill, 
Nature  awoke  and  stirred.  The  grass-blades  on  the 

hill 
Stretched  themselves  in   the  sunshine,  and  with 

quivering  gleam 


30  THE   JESTERS 

The  sun  replied,  awoke,  warmed  with  its  darting 

beam 
The  green  tree  vault  above.  The  breeze  awoke,  and 

strong 
With  its  first  waking  sang,  tempting  the  brook  to 

song. 
All  the  birds  answered ;  sang  to  their  friends,  wind 

and  sun, 

Sang  the  glad  hymn  of  life,  merging  it  ev'ry  one 
Into  the  birds'  love-song.  In  my  heart  something 

stirred, 

Fluttered,  awoke,  and  lived,  sung  to  life  by  the  bird ! 
Something  which  must  awake  in  ev'ry  maiden's 

breast, 

Something  which  changes  peace  into  a  sweet  unrest, 
Something  which,  craving,  pleads  for  a  gift  from 

above, 
Something  which  whispers  her  that  God's  great  gift 

is  love. 
My  eyes  were  wet,  my  heart  throbbed,  and  I  seemed 

to  fear 

Nature's  glad  message  now,  after  the  winter  drear; 
But  as  the  wavelets  danced  and  as  the  sunlight 

beamed, 
Warmer  and  warmer  a  voice  from  the  sunlight 

seemed 


ACT  FIRST  31 

To  raise  its  hymn  of  joy,  and  in  glad  tones  to  sing: 
"Maid,  thou  art  woman  now!  Waken!  Here  is  the 

spring ! " 

I  have  no  words  to  tell  what  I  would  fain  explain, 
Old  friend,  but  do  not  let  me  sink  to  sleep  again. 
Try,  dear,  to  understand,  strive  what  I  mean  to  find, 
Without  plain  words.  I  know  your  heart  will  help 

your  mind. 
Old  friend,  your  child's  heart  craves  for  something 

all  unknown, 
Which  the  sunbeams  told  her  springs  from  the  good 

God's  throne. 
Help  me,  dear  friend,  to  find  it. 

OLIVER,  much  moved,  but  with  a  half  smile 

If  I  help  in  this, 
What  guerdon  shall  be  mine  ? 

SOLANGE,  throwing  her  arms  around  his  neck 

A  loving  daughter's  kiss. 

OLIVER,  half  to  himself,  half  to  SOLANGE 
So  then  I  too  have  slept,  and  the  weight  of  my  years 
Crushed  down  the  old  man's  pow'r  to  see  a  young 

girl's  tears. 

Now  my  heart  is  awake,  it  cannot  yet  rejoice, 
For  from  above  it  drop  tears  in  your  mother's  voice, 
Softly  reproaching.  So,  wiseacre  deaf  and  blind, 


32  THE   JESTERS 

I  have  been  erring.  Not  trying  the  truth  to  find, 
Satisfied  with  the  lore  musty  old  books  have  given, 
On  parchment  peering  down  instead  of   up  to 

heaven, 

Wise  in  the  bookworm's  lore,  by  other  fools  com- 
piled, 
Knowing  the  world,  ignoring  your  true  heart,  my 

child, 

Reading  the  stars,  not  seeing  life's  true  guerdon  lay 
Not  in  the  starlit  night,  but  in  the  sunlit  day. 
Child,  can  you  now  forgive  ?  See,  I  my  sin  confess, 
And  will  in  future  strive  to  win  your  happiness. 

SOLANGE 

No  pardon,  dear,  you  need — old  men  are  ever  so; 
They  search  and  seek  for  things  which  younger 

hearts  all  know, 

Searching,  they  cannot  find.  It  is  the  human  lot. 
What  in  a  young  heart  glows  is  by  old  hearts  forgot. 
Dear  one,  you  do  not  know — 

OLIVER 

Aye,  from  today  I  do, 
And  having  always  loved,  know  you  and  love  you 

too; 

And  as  your  heart  forgives  thoughtlessly  given  pain, 
Now  that  we  know,  we  are,  I  hope,  old  friends  again. 


ACT   FIRST  33 

SOLANGE,  gaily 

Answer  my  question  then.  Why  does  my  father  now, 
When  I  would  dance,  refuse  ?  Why  with  deep- wrin- 
kled brow, 

Grudging  himself  the  joy  to  see  me  glad,  does  he 
Keep  me  within  these  walls  alone,  unceasingly? 
Every  "no"  he  speaks  pains  him.  I  read  his  eyes 
As  you  read  books,  and  see.  Why  then  this  sacrifice  ? 
Why  does  he  grudge  me  joy  ?  Why  make  my  young 

heart  sore? 
Punishing  me,  I  know,  punishes  him  yet  more. 

OLIVEE 

Dear  heart,  the  reason  is,  Mautpre  is  passing  poor. 
Poverty  is  the  cause  of  your  fast-closed  door, 
For  on  your  father's  back  ever  together  ride 
Two  grim,  unsparing  guests,  poverty  and  his  pride. 

SOLANGE 
Poverty  ? 

OLIVEE 

Aye. 

SOLANGE 

Poor  sire!  Why  did  I  never  know? 

OLIVEE 
'T  is  his  wish.  Never  let  him  guess  I  told  you  so. 


34  THE   JESTERS 

SOLANGE 

Nay,  of  course,  by  no  word. 

Enter  the  BARON  DE  MAUTPRE  with  a  paper  in  his 
hand 

OLIVER 

Hush! 

MAUTPRE 

Here  upon  this  plan 
I  have  marked  woods  to  fell.   Oliver,  look,  my 

man. 
(Sees  SOLANGE)  Still  here,  Solange? 

SOLANGE 

Yes,  father,  I  've  been  scolded  so 
By  Oliver,  and  wait  for  your  forgiveness. 

MAUTPRE,  smiling 

Oh, 

You  are  forgiven,  sweet;  you  cannot  plead  in  vain 
For  pardon.  Do  not  let  it,  though,  occur  again. 

OLIVER,  who  has  been  looking"  at  the  plan 
Yes.  This  will  bring  in  gold,  and — 

MAUTPRE,  quickly,  with  a  glance  at  SOLANGE 

'T  will  improve  the  view 
From  the  east  window. 


ACT    FIRST  35 

SOLANGE 

Sirs,  I  bid  good  day  to  you. 
I  have  my  household  cares,  my  dove  to  feed. 
(She  curtsies  and  trips  up  the  staircase  and  out) 

MAUTPRE,  to  OLIVER,  poring  over  the  plan 

You  see 
Twelve  cords  from  Coulange  glade, — good  wood, 

too,  they  tell  me, — 
Fifteen  at  Valvert,  twelve  — 

VULCANO,  bursting"  into  the  room 

Up  to  the  gate  there  ride 
Three  evil-looking  men,  each  on  a  mule  astride. 

MAUTPRE 
Spies  again,  doubtless ! 

VULCANO,  staggering 

Fear  not;  my  men  are  below. 
I  go  to  join  them ! 
(Menacingly  shaking  his  sword  at  the  window) 

Ah!  Scoundrels!  You're  doomed,  I  trow. 
(He  goes  towards  the  door  and  is  met  fo/ JACQUES) 

JACQUES 

Good  my  lord,  'tis  three  pedlars  would  have  au- 
dience, they 


36  THE    JESTERS 

Have  with  them  things  of  worth  and  of  virtu, 
they  say. 

VULCANO 

Pedlars,  are  they?  Aha!  So  they  escape  my  sword. 
Had  they  been  thieves,  I  would — 

MAUTPRE,  handing  him  a  paper 

Vulcano,  send  this  word 
With  all  speed  to  the  town. 

(To  JACQUES)  Bring  in  the  pedlars.  I 
Will  see  their  wares.  (Exit  JACQUES) 
(To  OLIVER)  We  may  look,  though  we  cannot  buy. 

(JACQUES  shows  in  an  old  pedlar,  who  is  followed  by 

RENE    DE     CHANCENAC    and    ROBERT     DE    BEL- 

FONTE,  disguised  as  porters  and  carrying  large 
packs) 

PEDLAR 

God  keep  you,  sirs. 

OLIVER  and  MAUTPRE 
And  you. 

MAUTPRE,  looking  at  PEDLAR 

Do  I  not  know  your  face  ? 

PEDLAR 

Etienne,  from  Elbreuf  town,  an  it  so  please  your 
grace. 


ACT    FIRST  37 

MAUTPRE 

Ah,  yes.  And  so  youVe  something  I  may  buy, 

Etienne  ? 
Well,  well,  undo  your  packs  for  me. 

(  With  sudden  suspicion)  Who  are  those  men  ? 

PEDLAR,  in  some  confusion 
Good  my  lord,  porters  both. 

MAUTPRE 

Men  I  Ve  not  seen  before. 

PEDLAR 

No,  my  lord.  Lately  hired. 

MAUTPRE,  tO  RENE  and  ROBERT 

Friends,  wait  outside  the  door. 
(To  OLIVER)  They  spy  around  too  much. 

PEDLAR 

But  good  my  lord ! 

MAUTPRE 

How  so! 
Gave  I  no  order,  sir? 

PEDLAR 

Good  my  lord — 

OLIVER 

Bid  them  go ! 


38  THE    JESTERS 

(PEDLAR  makes  a  sign  to  RENE  and  ROBERT,  who 
go  out) 

MAUTPRE 

Now  what  have  you  to  show? 

PEDLAR,  kneeling,  to  undo  his  packs 

Sirs,  I've  new  things  and  old, 
Armour,  steel  corselets,  spears,  daggers,  and  cloth 

of  gold ; 
Velvet  from  Venice. 

MAUTPRE 
No.  These  do  not  please  me. 

PEDLAR 

Well, 
If  you  care  not  to  buy,  sir,  have  you  naught  to  sell  ? 

MAUTPRE,  interested,  with  a  glance  at  OLIVER 
Sell  ?  Some  oddments,  perhaps,  to  sell  I  have  a  mind. 
I  '11  go  and  see.  Wait  here.  Oliver,  we  might  find 
One  or  two  things. 

(Exit  BARON  in  converse  with  OLIVER.  The  PEDLAR, 
on  tiptoe,  calls  in  RENE  and  ROBERT) 

RENE 

Beshrew  me!  So  a  Chancenac  waits 
At  the  door. 

ROBERT,  loudly 
De  Belfonte— 


ACT    FIRST  39 

PEDLAR,  imploring  a  quieter  tone 

When,  at  the  castle  gates, 

I  begged  you'd  show  discretion,  you  both  pro- 
mised. 

RENE 

True. 
But  we  did  not  expect — 

PEDLAR 

What  would  you  have  me  do? 
I'm  but  a  pedlar,  you  are  for  the  day  my  men; 
If  you  but  raise  your  voice,  out  we  all  go  again. 

RENE,  looking  round  him 
Poverty  reigns,  I  see.  So  it  is  true  what  I 
Was  told  about  Mautpre's  odd  eccentricity. 

PEDLAR 
Lower,  my  lord,  your  presence  here  is  an  outrage. 

ROBERT,  laughing 

No! 

'T  is  to  decide  a  bet.  Did  we  not  tell  you  so  ? 
Rene,  against  all  sense,  maintains  that  wit  ensnares 
A  maiden's  heart. 

RENE 

Belfonte,  fatuous  fool,  declares 
That  a  man's  beauty  o'er  a  man's  wit  will  prevail, 


40  THE   JESTERS 

And  that  where  wit  may  win,  a  handsome  face  may 
fail. 

ROBERT 

Yes!  And  to  prove  our  points — 

RENE 

We  had  to  find  the  maid. 

There  is  one  here,  Etienne;  but  be  not  you  afraid: 
We'll  be  discreet.  Mautpre  shall  not  know  our  in- 
tent. 

ROBERT,  laughing 

No;  lest  he  call  his  men  down  from  the  battlement. 
'T  is  Oliver  must  help.  With  this  old  friend  of  mine 
And  of  my  father's,  we  will  some  sage  plan  combine 
To  gain  us  entry  here. 

RENE,  laughing 

On  this  side  of  the  door. 

PEDLAR 

I  hear  them  coming  back.  Pray  ye,  sweet  lords,  no 
more. 

(He  pushes  them  out.  Enter  DE  MAUTPRE,  followed 
by  OLIVER  and  JACQUES) 

MAUTPRE,  to  the  PEDLAR 

We've  found  some  things  below,  if  you  will  come 
with  me. 


ACT    FIRST  41 

PEDLAR 

Have  you  no  suits  of  mail,  cuirass  for  cavalry, 
Spurs,  daggers,  gorgets,  or  — 

MAUTPRE 

Aye,  there's  my  martial  gear, 
Helmet,  spurs,  all  complete.  Go,  Jacques,  and  bring 

it  here.  (Exit  JACQUES) 

There  is  the  stout  cuirass  which,  in  the  Pavian  strife, 
Won  me  the  royal  thanks  in  that  it  saved  my  life. 

PEDLAR 
Good! 

MAUTPRE 

You  must  pay  it  dear,  for 't  was  a  valued  friend, 
In  fifteen  twenty-five,  when  stout  blows  without  end 
Rained  down  on  it.  Ah,  me !  Those  were  heroic  days, 
And  I  fought  hard  to  win  my  royal  master's  praise. 
Each  time  my  blade  I  swung,  a  Spaniard  bit  the 

dust; 
But  the  blade  has  been  cleaned  and  is  quite  free 

from  rust. 

And  the  blows  I  received  my  good  cuirass  did  scorn, 
For  'tis  of  finest  steel. 

JACQUES,  bringing  in  coat  of  armour 

It  has  not  yet  been  worn, 
And  is  in  perfect  state. 


42  THE   JESTERS 

PEDLAR,  coughing  to  hide  his  amusement 
Hem!  hum! 

MAUTPRE,  to  JACQUES 

You  idiot! 

(To  PEDLAR)  He 

Must  be  excused,  Etienne;  he  knows  no  history. 
On  the  bright  surface  each  blow  once  could  be  seen 

— here! 
Here  again!  The  repairs  cost  me  exceeding  dear. 

PEDLAR,  who  has  been  examining  the  suit 
On  the  back  here's  a  dent. 

MAUTPRE 

On  the  back  ?  Let  me  look. 
(  With  offended  dignity) 
'Tis  here  we  hang  it  up.  'Tis  the  mark  of  the  hook. 

PEDLAR 
What  will  you  take  for  it  ? 

OLIVER 

'Tis  priceless,  for't  has  borne 
The  brunt  of  battle  and  was  by  a  hero  worn. 

MAUTPRE 

How  would  you  price,  Etienne,   great  Hector's 
shield  and  spear? 


ACT    FIRST  43 

How  can  I  price  the  suit  of  armour  that  is  here? 
Shall  I  say  eighty  crowns?  A  hundred?  I  know  not. 

PEDLAR 
Say  forty  and  I  buy. 

MAUTPRE 

Nay,  sirrah!  Why,  God  wot, 
I  do  not  care  to  sell. 

PEDLAR 

Sixty  crowns. 

OLIVER,  to  DE  MAUTPRE 

Let  it  go. 
We  need  the  gold.  He  may  buy  other  things  below. 

MAUTPRE 

Take  it  then. 

PEDLAR,  counting  and  paying 
Sixty  crowns. 

MAUTPRE 

Oliver,  take  his  gold. 
Now  come  with  me  and  price  a  brass-bound  chest. 

Tis  old 

Oaken,  wondrously  carved  ;  from  an  old  abbey  torn, 
Where  it  held  treasure. 

PEDLAR 

Now  in  it  you  store — 


44  THE   JESTERS 

MAUTPRE 


Our  corn. 


(MAUTPRE  and  the  PEDLAR  go  out.  Enter  ROBERT 
and  RENE,  who  have  been  peeping  in,  waiting1  until 
OLIVER  was  alone) 

OLIVER,  putting  away  the  money 
Sixty  gold  crowns  in  hand. — Robert  de  Belfonte! 

ROBERT 

I 

Would  have  your  pardon  for  coming  thus  privily, 
But,  friend,  in  you  I  trust.   I  know  you  wish  me 

well. 

I  and  de  Chancenac  here  (OLIVER  bows)  have  an 
odd  tale  to  tell. 

RENE,  bowing 

Odd?  No!  The  old,  old  tale  youth  ever  tells  to  age. 
We  are  in  love. 

OLIVER 
In  love? 

ROBERT 

You  were  my  grand  sire's  page, 
And  with  my  father  made  vow  of  true  friendship. 

Now 
I,  sir,  my  father's  son,  ask  you  to  keep  that  vow. 


ACT   FIRST  45 

OLIVER 


In  love? 


RENE 

With  sweet  Solange.  Nay,  start  not.  Not  one  word 
From  our  lips  of  our  love  has  that  sweet  maiden 

heard. 

As  the  bird  which  she  fed  when  we  first  saw  her,  she, 
Sweet  Solange  de  Mautpre,  from  all  offence  is  free. 

OLIVER,  looking  from  one  to  another 
In  love?  And  with  Solange?  Both  of  you? 

ROBERT 

Hear  our  tale. 

And  I  am  sure  your  heart's  true  kindness  will  pre- 
vail 

Over  all  prejudice.  'Tis  but  a  week  agone, 
In  mind  and  heart  my  friend  Rene  and  I  were  one. 
Then  we  both  saw  the  maid,  and  now  we  drift  apart, 
For  her  sweet  picture  fills  all  of  my — 

RENE 

And  my  heart. 
Help  us,  good  sir.  'Tis  time  two  old  friends  were  at 

peace, 
Time  that  strife  between   two  brothers  in  arms 

should  cease. 
Both  of  us  love  the  maid — 


46  THE    JESTERS 

OLIVER 

Love  her,  young  sir,  but  how? 
You  say  you've  seen  her.  Where?  How  can  you  love 

her  now? 

RENE 

Shooting,  one  day,  the  birds  drew  us  near  to  the  line 
Which,  as  you  know,  divides  de  Mautpre's  lands 

from  mine, 
And,  through  a  quickset  hedge,  our  thoughts  of 

aught  but  love, 

We  saw  the  fair  Solange  feeding  a  milk-white  dove. 
It  kissed  her  lips,  her  neck,  rippled  her  golden  hair 
With  its  pink  beak.  To  me,  standing  and  gazing 

there, 

It  was  as  though  some  saint  touching  my  sinful  eyes 
Had  granted  them  a  glance  into  God's  Paradise. 

ROBERT 

I  too  could  scarce  believe  Solange  was  not  divine, 
And,  like  Rene,  felt  straight  that  I  must  make  her 

mine. 
What  now  to  do? 

OLIVER,  to  himself  as  much  as  to  the  young  men 

'Tis  true.  Little  Solange  must  wed, 
Seventeen  years  have  passed  over  her  golden  head. 
But  if  I  help  the  child  these  two  fair  youths  to  see, 


ACT    FIRST  47 

Will  not  Mautpre  with  right  say  I  act  traitorously  ? 

And  if  I  help  her  not,  do  not  I  wrong  her  sore  ? 

De  Mautpre  owes  me  much.  I  owe  Solange  far  more. 

Sirs,  I  will  serve  your  wish.  To  that  I  pledge  my 
troth. 

(Aside)  God  grant  that  serving  them  I  may  be  serv- 
ing both 

De  Mautpre  and  Solange. 

ROBERT 

Let  us  a  plan  devise 

By  which  we  both  may  be  seen  by  the  dainty  prize 
Each  of  us  hopes  to  win. 

OLIVER 

It  will  be  hard  to  find, 

For  dark  suspicion  lurks  deep  in  de  MautpreTs  mind. 
Poverty's  pride  forbids  his  oldest  friends  the  door, 
Lest  coming  they  should  see  that  he  is  now  grown 

poor. 
Yet  wiU  I  think. 

RENE 

And  when  we  may  return  again, 
Send  word  to  me. 

ROBERT 

Or  me. 


48  THE    JESTERS 

RENE,  laughing 

Send,  if  you  can,  two  men, 
Each  with  the  one  word  "Come." 

OLIVER 

Well,  I  will  not  say  no. 
But  now,  my  young  friends  both,  the  word  I  say  is 

"Go." 
You've  tamed  long  enough. 

RENE 

Hush !  Here  the  maiden  comes. 

ROBERT,  jealously 
How  know  you  that,  Rene? 

RENE,  with  a  smile 

A  pricking  in  my  thumbs. 

(SOLANGE  appears  in  the  gallery  carrying  her  white 
dove  in  a  cage) 

SOLANGE,  to  her  dove 
Each  day,  well  in  the  shade,  my  bird,  I  hang  your 

cage. 
Why,  then,  in  your  plump  breast  does  fruitless 

anger  rage, 

Ruffling  it  with  the  sound  of  a  weak  old  man's  snore? 
Know  you  not,  foolish  bird,  if  through  your  open 

door 


ACT   FIRST  49 

I  let  you  fly,  your  life  would  be  the  forfeit?  Aye, 
All  the  wild  birds  would  peck  and  mock  you  as  you 

die. 

Evil  aye  stalks  abroad.  But  do  not  be  afraid, 
Cages  there  always  are  for  each  young  bird — (a 

little  sadly)  or  maid. 

(She  hang's  her  cage  up  on  the  branch  of  a  climbing 
rose-tree ;  R  o  B E  R T ,  R  E N  E  ,  and  OLIVER  stand  watch- 
ing her) 

RENE 

She  is  delicious. 

ROBERT 

Yes. 

RENE 

She  lends  these  crumbling  walls 
All  the  poetic  sheen  of  the  enchanted  halls 
Of  the  old  legends.  See  the  light  upon  her  head 
As  she  hangs  up  her  cage.  Did  you  hear  what  she 

said 

To  the  white  bird  ?  I  fear,  Robert,  we  wrong  her.  Oh, 
Let  us  forego  our  bet! 

ROBERT 

Double  it  rather!  No? 

Does  "ready  wit"  now  fear  that  it  will  meet  rebuff? 
Are  you  afraid  to  lose,  that  you  hold  back? 


50  THE   JESTERS 

RENE 

Enough ! 
(To  OLIVER)  On  you  we  count,  sir. 

SOLANGE 

speaking  to  the  bird  and  coming  down  stage  (the 
young  men  stand  back) 

There!  coo  to  the  sun  and  look 
Out  to  the  farms,  while  I,  diligent,  con  my  book. 

OLIVER 

Peste!  I  can  think  of  naught!  What  is  your  book, 
my  child? 

SOLANGE 

T  is  John  the  Jester's  tale,  who,  by  his  capers  wild, 
Gladdened  King  Philip's  court  until  in  love  he  fell. 
(Pensively)  A  jester  here  would  make,  were  we 
but  rich — 

OLIVER 

Ah,  well, 
That  may  come. 

SOLANGE 

Which?  The  jester  or — 

OLIVER,  aside 

I  have  my  plan. 

(To   SOLANGE)  Both  perhaps.  But   now,   hark! 
Just  to  please  an  old  man, 


ACT   FIRST  51 

When  Mautpre  comes,  be  still  or  speak  of  languor, 

and 

i 

When  he  is  looking,  lean  your  fair  head  on  your 

hand. 

I  have  no  time  to  tell  you  why.  T  is  but  a  trap 
Into  which  a  sunbeam  may  find  its  way,  mayhap. 

Enter  MAUTPRE  and  VULCANO 

MAUTPRE 

Oliver,  what  is  wrong?  More  woeful  tales  to  tell, 
Needing  another  sale? 

OLIVER, pointing  to  SOLANGE 

Hush,  sir,  she  is  not  well. 

MAUTPRE 

Not  well? 

OLIVER 

No,  good  my  lord.  Too  long  this  castle  drear 
Has  cloistered  her.  To  me  her  case  is  sadly  clear. 
Her  languor — 

MAUTPRE,  kneeling'  by  her  chair 

My  Solange,  have  I  neglected  you? 

SOLANGE 

playing  the  part  OLIVER  has  bidden  her  to  play 
No,  father,  no,  I  cast  no  jot  of  blame  on  you, 
But  if  I  could  but  laugh,  nay,  if  I  could  but  smile, 


52  THE   JESTERS 

If  some  one  could  my  life's  sad  moments  but  be- 
guile ! 

MAUTPRE,  despairingly 
Oliver,  you're  a  leech! 

OLIVER 

What  says  Hippocrates 
In  his  immortal  book  on  melancholy?  These 
Are  cases  which  to  cure  no  drugs  we  should  apply, 
But  look  to  jesters  rather  for  our  remedy. 

MAUTPRE 
To  jesters? 

SOLANGE 

Jesters  ? 

OLIVER 

Yes. 

VULCANO 

Rich  lords  keep  one  or  two. 

Their  tricks  are  much  like  those  which  dogs  or 
monkeys  do. 

OLIVER 
They  animate  a  court  and  might  amuse  our  dear. 

MAUTPRE 

A  jester  by  all  means !  How  can  we  get  one  here  ? 
How  are  you  now,  Solange? 


ACT    FIRST  53 

SOLANGE 

Better,  I  think,  my  lord. 
Be  not  distressed. 

MAUTPRE 

But  how  to  spread  abroad  the  word 
That  we  a  jester  need? 

Enter  PEDLAR,  followed  by  ROBERT  and  RENE 

PEDLAR 

Now,  my  men,  pray  ye  do 

Get  to  work;  fasten  up  these  three  packs,  both  of 
you! 

OLIVER,  aside  to  the  young  men 
Listen!  My  plan  is  found. 

(To  the  BARON)  Good  my  lord,  by  your  grace, 
I  will  indite  the  scroll  which  shall,  from  place  to 

place, 

In  all  the  villages  from  Mautpre  down  to  Tours, 
In  ev'ry  market-place  tell  all  this  need  of  yours. 
(He  sits  and  writes,  readingaloud  what  he  is  writing,) 
"Wanted,  a  jester  whose  converse  can  entertain 
A  maid  of  high  degree,  and  make  her  smile  again ; 
A  jester  of  rare  wit,  courtly,  refined,  and 
Trustworthy  " — 

ROBERT,  aside  to  RENE 
What  is  this? 


54  THE    JESTERS 

RENE 

Hush,  man,  I  understand. 

CURTAIN 

As  the  curtain  (a  slow  one)  descends,  RENE  and 
ROBERT  load  the  packs  on  to  their  shoulders. 


THE   SECOND   ACT 


ACT   SECOND 

The  great  reception  room  of  the  Chateau  de  Maut- 
pre.  This  great  baronial  hall  shows  many  signs  of 
dilapidation,  but  many,  also,  of  its  glories  in  the  past. 
A  large  window  (up  stage)  affords  a  magnificent 
view  over  the  country-side.  The  room  is  being  trimmed 
with  garlands  of  wild  flowers  so  disposed  as  to  hide 
the  mural  dilapidations  wherever  possible.  A  large 
state  armchair  with  a  smaller  seat  beside  it  have  been 
placed  for  DE  MAUTPRE  and  SOLANGE.  Opposite 
these  seats,  and  somewhat  to  one  side,  is  a  wooden 
bench.  As  the  curtain  rises  VULCANO  is  superintend- 
ing  the  work  of  j  A  c  Q  u  E  s,  of  3  u  L  i  A  N,  and  pfp  i  E  E  R  E 
who  are  hanging  the  garlands. 

VULCANO 

HANG  that  piece  higher — No.  Somewhat  more  to 

the  left, 

Now  to  the  right.  Dio!  Of  eyesight  art  bereft? 
Drop  the  loop  of  your  wreath.  Not  so  much,  dolt. 

Stop!  There! 

So  shall  we  have  a  hall  bedecked  beyond  compare 
With  all  your  tapestries  panelled  or  set  in  frieze. 
Nowhere,  embroidered,  shall  you  find  such  flow'rs 

as  these. 


58  THE    JESTERS 

What  is  that  scarlet  flow'r  which  twinkles  like  a 

star 
Up  there? 

JACQUES 

'Tis  pimpernel. 

VULCANO 

And  those  green  ones  which  are 
So  lightly  graceful  there  ?  Say,  sirrah,  what  are  they  ? 

JACQUES 

Those?  They  are  hops,  i'  faith — you  see  them 
ev'ry  day. 

VULCANO 

T  is  well.  Clear  up  the  mess  of  moss  and  fallen  leaves, 
That  when  the  baron  comes  he  naught  of  it  per- 
ceives. 

Dress  yourselves  in  your  best  and  when  dressed  come 
below. 

(As  they  go  out  by  one  door,  OLIVER  enters  by  an- 
other and  sees  the  decorations) 

OLIVER 
Artist,  I  see,  as  well  as  fighter,  Vulcano. 

VULCANO 

Pooh!  An  idea  of  mine.  Still  I  admit  to  you 
My  garlands  do  look  well  hung  thus. 


ACT    SECOND  59 

OLIVER 

Indeed  they  do. 

T  is  pleasant,  too,  to  think  that  all  these  tapestries 
So  charmingly  arranged,  so  pleasant  to  the  eyes, 
Cost  naught. 

VULCANO 

That  is  because  I  know  with  half  an  eye 
How  I  can  make  the  most  of  such  field  mercery 
As  pimpernel  and  hops  — 

OLIVER 

How  many  jesters,  pray, 
Are  there  in  waiting  ? 

VULCANO 

Three  of  them  have  come  to-day. 
They  are  but  sorry  knaves.  In  the  guard-room  they  sit, 
And  not  one  of  the  three  appears  to  have  much  wit. 

OLIVER,  to  himself,  anxiously 

Where  are  the  two  young  lords,  who  promised  they 
would  come, 

For  whom  this  tourney  was  proclaimed  with  beat 
of  drum  ? 

Were  they  but  jesting?  No.  They  plan  some  glad 
surprise. 

(Aloud)  Comes  no  one?  Vulcano!  You  have  the  bet- 
ter eyes, 


60  THE   JESTERS 

Look  down  the  road.  No  fools  you  see  who  wend 

their  ways 
Up  to  the  castle? 

VULCANO,  at  window 

One.  (OLIVER  runs  to  window) 

Our  ass  was  set  to  graze 
By  the  road. 

OLIVER 

Imbecile.  Ah!  Here  comes  de  Mautpre! 
Show  him  your  garlands,  then  go  watch  the  king's 

highway 
In  case  more  jesters  come. 

Enter  MAUTPRE 

MAUTPRE 

Bravo,  my  friends,  bravo! 
How  brave  a  show  of  flow'rs.  Who  made  it  ? 

OLIVER 

Vulcano. 

MAUTPRE 

'Tis  skilfully  well  done. 

VULCANO 

Florentines  in  their  heart 
Cherish  a  trinity  of  gods :  love,  war,  and  art. 


ACT   SECOND  61 

MAUTPRE 

None  of  those  who  may  come  to-day  must  even  guess 
That  we  are  poor.  Your  flow'rs  hide  my  poor  walls' 

distress. 

I  thank  you,  Vulcano.  (To  OLIVER,  who  is  standing 
by  the  windoiv  crossing  himself  devoutly  and  mur- 
muring prayers) 

Why,  Oliver,  what  now? 
Why  these  signs  of  the  cross,  devotion-wrinkled 

brow, 
And  mumble^  prayers? 

OLIVER,  in  some  confusion 

Three!  But  three  jesters  are  here, 
Three  to  choose  from,  and  if  Solange  we  are  to  cheer 
We  must  have  more — five  fools — two  more  at  least 

— the  three 
Are  far  too  few. 

MAUTPRE,  carelessly 

Unless  one  of  those  three  be  he 
Whom  we  elect  to  keep.  Tell  me  how  does  Nicole 
In  her  duenna's  dress  fill  her  duenna's  role? 

OLIVER 
Passing  well,  good  my  lord.  Vows,  tho',  she  cannot 

budge 
In  her  corset  of  wood.  But  you  yourself  shall  judge. 


62  THE   JESTERS 

She  waits  without.  Hola!  Hola!  Without,  I  say! 
(Throws  open  a  door  and  announces  with  mock  cere- 
mony) 
Make  way  for  Dame  Nicole,  duenna  de  Mautpre. 

(NICOLE,  looking'  extremely  uncomfortable  in  her 
grand  clothes,  comes  in  and  is  inspected  by  the  BA- 
RON) 

MAUTPRE 

How  do  you  feel,  Nicole,  in  these  fine  clothes? 

NICOLE 

•        My  lord, 

Like  a  fowl  trussed  to  roast.  Never,  upon  my  word, 
Have  I  been  ill  at  ease  as  I  am  now.  I  seem 
To  be  packed  in  a  case.  If  it  lasts  I  shall  scream 
Loud  for  help  presently,  thinking,  my  lord,  that  I 
Have  been  encoffined  now,  living,  before  I  die. 
This  ruff  around  my  neck  chokes  me — I  never  could 
Be  a  great  dame  and  wear  this  great  corset  of  wood. 
(She  taps  it) 
With  it  I  cannot  breathe;  I  cannot  (showing  her 

dress)  walk  in  this 

Bell-shaped  thing,  and  my  shoes  are  pointed  mi- 
series. 

Give  me  back,  good  my  lord,  my  rags  of  yesterday; 
In  these  I  feel,  i'  faith,  a  dressed-up  ape. 


ACT   SECOND  63 

MAUTPRE 

Hey,  hey! 
Here 's  gratitude. 

OLIVER 

Come,  come.  Tis  not  so  bad,  I  trow. 
Show  us  the  reverence  I  taught  you.  So !  And  now 
Go  fetch  your  mistress  in.  And  do  not  drag  your 

feet 

As  you  walk.  Lift  them  up.  So!  And  let  me  entreat 
You  not  to  wipe  your  nose  on  your  sleeve. 

NICOLE 

Well,  but,  sir, 
What  shall  I  wipe  it  on?  My  gloves,  my  stomacher? 

MAUTPRE 
Go  now,  and  fetch  Solange. 

NICOLE 

I  go,  my  lord.  This  train 

Will  trip  me  up.  I  long  to  scrub  my  pans  again 
And  wear  my  kitchen  dress.  In  that  at  least  I  look 
Not  like  a  doll  dressed  up,  but  what  I  am — a  cook. 
(She  goes  out) 

MAUTPRE 

Now,  Oliver,  'tis  time.  (Pointing)  Post  here  the 
men-at-arms 


64  THE   JESTERS 

With  the  ploughmen  whom  you  have  brought  up 

from  the  farms; 

The  jesters  on  this  bench.  We,  by  this  door  in  state, 
Will  make  our  entry — Too  long  do  not  let  us  wait. 
(He  goes  out) 

OLIVER 

And  all  this  for  the  two  who  have  not  come.  I  fear 
(shaking  his  head) 
None  of  the  three  we  have  will  be  your  mate,  my 

dear. 
(Opening  guard-room  door)  Now,  Vulcano. 

VULCANO 

Hola! 

OLIVER 

Come  in,  and  place  your  men. 

(OLIVER  goes  to  the  window.  Enter  from  guard- 
room VULCANO  With  JACQUES,  PIERRE,  JULIAN, 

etc.,  etc.  They  are  helmeted,  dressed  in  breastplates 
and  btiffjerkins,  and  armed  with  halberds  which  they 
manage  with  some  difficulty) 

JULIAN 

Murder !  Help !  On  my  foot  your  lance-butt  dropped 
again. 

JACQUES 
'  T  was  your  own  fault. 


ACT   SECOND  65 

VULCANO 

No  more. 

JACQUES 

But  he— 

VULCANO 

Maladetto! 
Silence  I  say.  Stand  there.  You  there,  and  there.  I 

know 
(To  JULIAN)  You  will  put  out  an  eye  with  your 

lance  point. 

JULIAN 

Perchance 
It  would  be  no  bad  thing  to  take  away  my  lance. 

VULCANO 
Rest  on  it,  dolt.  (Calling)  Now,  you  fool  triad,  sit 

there,  pray, 

And  forget  not  to  rise  when  the  lord  of  Mautpre 
And  his  fair  daughter  come. 

(The  three  jesters,  HILARIUS,  BAROCO,  and  JACK 
PUDDING,  enter  and  take  their  places  on  the  bench. 
HILARIUS,  white-faced,  clean-shaven,  and  sinister 
looking,  is  dressed  in  black  and  scarlet  and  is  in  ap- 
pearance the  exact  opposite  of  his  name.  BAROCO 
is  a  smirking,  affected  Italian,  and  JACK  PUDDING 
is  a  grinning  peasant  lad) 


66  THE   JESTERS 

HILARIUS,  in  a  deep  and  mournful  voice 
It  is  damp  here. 

B  A  R  o  c  o ,  looking"  round  him 

Is  this  the  vaunted  wealth  of  France  ? 


JACK   PUDDING 

Heigho!  Take  care  (to  JULIAN),  you'll  put  my  eye 
out  with  your  lance. 

JULIAN 

Whose  fault  is  that  but  yours?  Your  thick  head's 
in  my  way. 

VULCANO 
Way  for  the  Baron  George  Charles  Henry  de  Maut- 

pre! 

(Enter  DE  MAUTPRE  and  SOLANGE  hand  in  hand 
folloivedby  NICOLE  who  carries  so  LANCETS  hand- 
kerchief and  fan.  The  BARON  and  SOLANGE  sweep 
ceremoniously  round  towards  their  places,  while  the 
"men-at-arms"  salute  as  best  they  can  and  the  three 
jesters  rise  from  their  bench  and  bow  deeply.  NI- 
COLE, who  i$  anxious  to  sit  down,  plumps  into  the 
big  state  chair  intended  for  her  master,  then,  when 
he  sees  her,  upon  SOLANGE'S  stool,  and  eventually 
takes  her  stand  behind  SOLANGE.  At  a  sign  from 
VULCANO  the  three  jesters  resume  their  seats) 


ACT    SECOND  67 

OLIVER 

Does  my  lord  condescend  these  men  to  interview? 
(MAUTPRE  nods  assent) 

VULCANO 

Avanti,  then, the  first.  Now,  red  face,  up  with  you. 
(JACK  PUDDING  gets  up  and  giggles  foolishly) 

OLIVER,  aside 
They  cannot  mean  to  come. 

MAUTPRE 

Well,  have  you  naught  to  say, 
And  if  not,  prithee,  why  have  you  come  here  to-day  ? 

JACK   PUDDING 

My  name  is  Pudding.  (All  laugh) 

SOLANGE,  to  NICOLE 

He  is  not  ill-named.  I  had 
No  fitter  name  found. 

NICOLE 

But  he  is  a  likely  lad. 

JACK  PUDDING,  after  a  pause 
My  name  is  Pudding. 

OLIVER 
So  you  have  already  said. 


68  THE   JESTERS 

JACK  PUDDING,  another  pause 
Pudding,  my  name  is. 

MAUTPRE,  smiling 

Or  perhaps  'tis  pudding-head. 

{All  laugh  as  in  duty  bound  at  DE  MAUTPRE 's  little 
joke) 

PUDDING 
My  name  is  Pudding.  When  last  Monday  the  man 

came 
And  read  his  parchment,  all  the  farm-hands  said 

'twere  shame 

If  I  did  not  obtain  the  fool's  place  speedily, 
As  none  of  them  had  seen  a  greater  fool  than  I. 
(Everybody  laughs  at  him) 

OLIVER 

I  doubt  it  not,  my  lad.  Where  have  you  served  be- 
fore? 

PUDDING 

Down  on  the  farm,  that's  all.  But  that's  no  matter, 

for 

I've  always  played  the  fool,  little  else  did  I  do. 
I  always  have  amused  the  lads  (with  a  grin)  and 

lasses  too. 

MAUTPRE 

We  doubt  not  that  all  must  have  laughed  at  you, 
Tfegs. 


ACT  SECOND  69 

SOLANGE 

How  did  you  make  the  lasses  laugh? 

PUDDING,  gigging  loudly 

A'  pinched  their  legs. 

OLIVER,  to  the  BARON 

This  Pudding  shall  I  send  at  once  back  to  his  farm  ? 
He  is  no  good. 

MAUTPRE 

Tis  true.  But  he  can  do  no  harm. 
Let  him  stay  here  his  month. 

VULCANO 

prods  BAROCO  with  his  sword.  He  springs  into  the 
air  and  cuts  a  caper 

Your  name,  sir. 

BAROCO 

Baroco, 

My  name  is,  and  that  name  you,  my  lord,  doubt- 
less know. 

For  ten  years  past  that  name  has  made  all  Florence 
smile. 

VULCANO 

You  are  from  Florence? 

BAROCO 

Si,  signore. 


70  THE   JESTERS 

VULCANO 

Wait  a  while. 
From  Florence  ?  Italian  ?  Why,  yes !  This  man  I 

know. 

Ecco  la  meraviglia.  Come  sta,  Baroco? 
Buon  giorno,  mio  caro.  Godo  di  vederla, 
Baroco,  come  va  la  sua  famiglia? 

BAROCO 
Per  la  grazia  di  Dio,  sta  bene  tutta. 

MAUTPRE,  who  is  tiring  of  this  effusion 

Do 

Not,  I  pray,  let  your  feelings  overpower  you. 
Let  us  proceed. 

VULCANO,  surprised 

Proceed?  Did  I  not  say  that  I 
Knew  him,  my  lord?  And  that  he  comes  from  Italy? 
Surely  that  is  enough  and  these  two  fools  may  go. 
No  jester  will  you  find  better  than  Baroco. 

OLIVER 
Our  lord  must  judge  of  that. 

VULCANO 

Judge?  But  the  man's  my  friend! 
Surely  my  lord  to  me  no  insult  can  intend? 


ACT   SECOND  71 

MAUTPRE,  to  BAROCO 

Where  have  you  served  before  ? 
(BAROCO  is  much  embarrassed  and  remains  silent) 

VULCANO,  quickly 

Baron  de  Polignac 
Was  his  first  master.  Then  the  Duke  of  Lambrissac. 

MAUTPRE 
Well,  we  shall  see.  Now,  you  dressed  all  in  sable, 

why 
Being  a  jester  do  you  dress  so  soberly  ? 

(HILARIUS,  who  is  dressed  in  black  from  head  to 
foot,  with  the  exception  of  his  belt  and  of  the  cox- 
comb on  his  black  donkeys-eared  cap.,  which  are 
scarlet,  rises  to  his  feet.  He  is  tall  and  thin,  cada- 
verous of  face,  and  looks  anything  but  a  merry- 
maker) 

HILARIUS,  in  a  hollow  voice 
Hilarius  my  name  and  so  my  nature  too. 
Though  I  may  not  appear  a  joyful  man  to  you, 
Usually  I  am  gay  as  the  morning  lark, 
Singing  and  full  of  fun  from  early  dawn  till  dark. 
But  I  am  sad  just  now;  family  woes  insist 
On  a  foors  hearing  them,  and  I  could  not  resist. 
But,  good  my  lord,  this  day  of  my  grief  is  the  last, 


72  THE   JESTERS 

And  you  will  find  me  gay  when  the  dark  cloud  has 

passed. 

OLIVER 

Surely  we  do  not  need  a  jester  who  is  sad. 

SOLANGE 

Poor  fellow,  let  him  stay. 

MAUTPRE 

Well,  stay  your  month,  my  lad. 
In  a  month  from  to-day  my  daughter  will  decide 
Which  of  you  shall  remain. 

VULCANO,  in  a  fury 

So  you  my  choice  deride. 
I  tell  you,  none  there  is  better  than  Baroco, 
But  you  forsooth  will  not  hearken  to  Vulcano. 
Maledetto !  My  lord,  but  you  shall  rue  this  sore. 

OLIVER 

who  has  been  at  the  window,  in  great  excitement 
Heed  him  not,  good  my  lord!  My  lord,  here  are 
two  more. 

MAUTPRE 
Two? 

OLIVER 

Two  more  jesters  who  are  knocking  at  the  gate. 
(To  JACQUES)  Go  down  and  let  them  in. 


ACT  SECOND  73 

MAUTPRE 

They  have  come  somewhat  late. 

OLIVER 
Forgive  them,  good  my  lord,  they  may  come  from 

afar, 

And  I  believe  these  two  far  better  jesters  are 
Than  the  three  we  have  heard. 

VULCANO 
What  proof  have  you  of  it  ? 

OLIVER 
My  eyes  convince  me  that  these  two  are  men  of  wit. 

MAUTPRE 

What  say  you,  my  Solange? 

SOLANGE 

I  say,  admit  them.  I 
Feel  that  the  one  of  them  may  cure  my  malady. 

OLIVER 
Here  they  are. 

(Enter  RENE  and  ROBERT.  They  make  low  obeisance 
to  the  BARON,  SOLANGE,  and  the  company  gen- 
erally. Each  of  them  wears  a  long  cloak  and  neither 
wears  cap  and  bells,  but  each  has  a  little  three- 
cornered  hat) 


74  THE   JESTERS 

MAUTPRE 

Sirs,  't  is  late. 

RENE, as CHICOT 

My  lord,  reproach  us  not. 
Surely,  an  you  will  think  on  it,  hard  is  our  lot, 
And  we  are  punished  sore  in  that  so  late  we  meet 
Mentor  with  one  of  the  three  Graces  at  his  feet. 

(There  is  a  gentle  hum  of  approval  at  the  compli- 
ment) 

OLIVER 

Cleverly  turned.  (He  rubs  his  hands) 

MAUTPRE,  to  OLIVER 

This  young  man  has  a  pretty  wit. 

OLIVER 
I  knew  'twas  so,  my  lord;  I  felt  quite  sure  of  it. 

MAUTPRE 

Well,  sirs,  as  you  are  here,  tell  us  your  names  and  say 
Each  why  you  think  to  be  jester  to  de  Mautpre. 

ROBERT,  a*  NARCISSUS 

Narcissus  is  my  name,  a  name  poets  have  sung; 
On  jest's  step-ladder  I  have  held  the  highest  rung, 
For  to  my  wit  the  gods  a  precious  gift  have  joined, 
A  gift  worth  more  than  all  the  gold  was  ever  coined, 
The  gift  of  beauty.  Wit  alone  is  not  enough. 


ACT    SECOND  75 

The  eye  loves  to  drink  in  the  beauties  of  a  ruff 
Well  starched,  of  virgin  white,  and  to  rest  on  a  man 
Whose  pourpoint  clothes  him  well.  My  meaning,  sir, 

I  can 
Prove  in  a  moment.  Who  would  choose  an  ugly 

knave 

For  servant  just  because  he  happened  to  be  brave? 
An  ugly  man  in  park  or  terrace  to  display 
Blots  out  their  loveliness,  takes  half  their  charm 

away. 

It  is  not  for  their  song  or  for  their  wit,  sir,  but 
For  their  sheer  beauty  that  the  peacocks  proudly 

strut 

On  castle  terrace,  parapet,  and  lawn,  I  trow, 
And  a  poor  jester's  plea  for  beauty  you'll  allow 
For  the  same  reason.  He,  I  think,  should  harmonize 
With  and  set  off  each  thing  on  which  may  rest 

your  eyes, 

Should  of  a  faulty  pillar  e'en  correct  the  line, 
Should  with  his  grace  of  wit  a  grace  of  form  com- 
bine 
To  charm  the  senses,  should  be  handsome,  straight, 

and  strong. 

Apollo  was  the  god  of  more  than  of  mere  song, 
And,  good  my  lord,  I  think  a  jester  for  his  part 
Should  be  worth  gazing  at,  a  living  work  of  art, 


76  THE   JESTERS 

And  that  he  should  not  please  by  stringing  words 

alone, 
But,  silent,  please  you  more  than  beauty  carved  in 

stone. 

(He  throws  off  his  cloak,  appearing  in  a  well  fitting 
suit  qf  rose -coloured  silk.  There  is  a  murmur  of  ad- 
miration at  his  handsome  figure) 

OLIVER 
This  young  man  will  break  hearts. 

SOLANGE 

What  grace  he  has ! 
NICOLE 

I'fegs, 

A  proper  youth  and  what  a  proper  pair  of  legs. 

NARCISSUS 
Who  cares  for  wisdom  which  from  ill-shaped  lips  one 

hears? 

Our  eyes  have  their  rights  just  as  surely  as  our  ears. 
A  lovely  pearl,  well  set,  will  ill-set  pearls  surpass, 
Good  wine  has  better  taste  out  of  a  well-cut  glass. 
Can  you  imagine  an  Achilles  with  a  limp, 
A  Paris  in  the  shape  of  a  deformed  imp? 
And  who  would  dare  to  limn  Adonis  with  a  leer 
Unevenly  absurd?  Or  Venus,  drawing  near 
In  dove-drawn  carnage,  thin  and  angular  portray  ? 


ACT   SECOND  77 

Beauty  has  equal  worth,  more  worth  than  wit,  I  say. 
Who  would  not  rather  far  a  love-bird  listen  to 
Than  to  a  grim  gray  parrot's  hoarse- voiced  speech? 

And  you 
Will  bear  me  out  in  this,  sweet  lady,  whose  white 

dove 

Is  the  incarnate  shape  of  beauty  and  of  love. 
Well,  I,  Narcissus,  am  a  love-bird  and  demand, 
Wise  sire  and  gentle  maid,  indulgence  at  your  hand. 

OLIVER 
His  speech  is  as  well  turned  out  as  he  is  forsooth. 

VULCANO 

We  summoned  jesters  here,  not  love-birds,  dainty 
youth. 

NARCISSUS,  looking  VULCANO  up  and  down 
At  you,  my  scraggy  friend,  but  once  I  need  to  gaze 
To  see  why  beauty's  name  your  senses  should  amaze 
And  anger. 

VULCANO,  drawing  his  dagger 
Cospetto! 

OLIVER,  holds  up  his  arm 

Stay.  Jesters  we  permit 
All  license  they  desire  and  do  but  laugh  at  it. 


78  THE   JESTERS 

They  may  say  what  they  will.  And  therefore  from 

this  youth, 
Brave  Vulcano,  you  must  for  once  accept — 

NARCISSUS,  laughing 

The  truth. 

(VULCANO,  more  furious  than  ever,  makes  a  rush  at 
NARCISSUS,  but  OLIVER  and  BARoco  hold  him 
back) 

MAUTPRE,  to  VULCANO 

Even  at  kings  their  fools  such  insolence  have  flung 
That  all  save  fools  for  such  words  had  straightway 

been  hung. 
Charlemagne  never  raged  when  his  fool  teased  him. 

VULCANO 
with  immense  dignity,  sheathing  his  weapon 

So? 
If  Charlemagne  endured,  I  vengeance  may  forego. 

SOLANGE,  to  OLIVER 

He  showed  no  fear. 

OLIVER 

This  jester 's  proved  himself  a  man. 

MAUTPRE,  to  CHICOT 

Tis  your  turn  now.  Speak  up  and  show  us,  if  you 
can, 


ACT   SECOND  79 

Your  title  and  your  claim  our  jester  here  to  be. 
Do  your  best.  I  admit  Narcissus  pleases  me. 

CHI  COT,  advances  and  bows 

(Speaking  rapidly  and  with  as  much  "zip"  as  can  be 
got  into  the  delivery  of  each  verse) 

You  all,  of  course,  should  know  my  name, 
My  qualities  you  ought  to  guess, 
But  time  will  teach  you  them  and  frame 
My  memory  in  gold,  unless 
I  please  you  not,  when  for  my  shame 
I  shall  sink  into  nothingness 
Forgotten, — an  eternal  blame. 
Chicot's  my  name. 

I  am  a  jester.  Would  you  know 
Just  what  a  jester  claims  to  do? 
I  will  enlighten  you,  and  go 
The  long  list  of  our  duties  through. 
Remember,  I  am  jesting,  though, 
So  that  the  half  will  not  be  true, 
As  on  my  lips  these  duties  glow. 
My  name's  Chicot. 

Tales  of  all  kinds  my  lips  can  frame, 
Riddles  I  have  for  you  to  guess, 
And  as  a  fun-maker  I  claim 


80  THE   JESTERS 

Proudly  the  highest  place,  no  less. 
I  can  an  ardent  fancy  tame 
With  a  tale  of  true  love's  distress, 
Or  I  can  kindle  fancy's  flame. 
Chicot's  my  name. 

My  own  self  I  can  from  me  throw, 
Be  troubadour,  or  clown,  and  you 
What  lies  behind  need  never  know 
Nor  to  my  jest  need  find  the  clue. 
For  when  I  choose  and  will  it  so, 
True  tales  are  false  and  false  ones  true, 
At  will  I  cause  new  minds  to  grow. 
My  name's  Chicot. 

While  here  I  hope  with  skilful  game 
To  lighten  yon  fair  maid's  distress, 
The  boredom  in  her  heart  to  tame, 
Her  mind  in  lightsome  joy  to  dress. 
Nor  shall  I  fail  and  win  your  blame 
For  this  my  task,  I  know,  unless 
Dame  Nature  fails  to  fan  the  flame. 
Chicot's  my  name. 

Let  others  advertise.  I  know 
You  will  soon  see  what  I  can  do 


ACT   SECOND  81 

And  if  it  pleases  you  or  no. 
Therefore,  why  should  I  weary  you 
E'er  I  begin  with  "I  do  so, 
And  so" — (points  to  the  other  jesters) 

like  yon  poor  little  crew? 
Why,  an  I  please  you  not,  I  '11  go. 
My  name's  Chicot. 

(MAUTPRE,  SOLANGE,  and  OLIVER  show  signs  of 
evident  pleasure  at  this  effort  qfc  HI  COT'S.  BAROCO 
and  VULCANO  whisper  together) 

BAROCO 
He  grinds  out  epigram  as  though  he  were  a  mill. 

VULCANO 
Leave  me  your  cause  in  hand.  I'll  take  it  up.  Be 

still. 
(To  CHICOT)  In  your  impromptu,  sir,  how  much  is 

memory 
Of  other's  wit  ? 

CHICOT 

Your  shaft  does  not  come  home  to  me, 
My  memory  is  short,  so  short  it  irks  me  sore. 
Why!  I  cannot  recall  where  I've  seen  you  before, 
Whether  'twas  in  a  rout  of  cowards  and  poltroons 
In  the  war,  or  with  chains  on  your  wrists  as  galloons, 
(Laughter)  In  the  king's  galleys. 


82  THE   JESTERS 

v  u  L  c  A  N  o,  furiously 

Dare  but  say  those  words  again  — 

SOLANGE,  frightened 
Hold  him  back,  Oliver. 

VOLCANO 

I'll  split  your  tongue  in  twain 
For  speaking  them. 

CHICOT 

To  us  our  speech  is  like  his  sword 
To  a  brave  belted  knight.  We  jesters  use  a  word 
As  the  wasps  use  their  sting,  as  the  hawks  use  their 

beak, 
And  when  we  know  its  use  to  wound  have  but  to 

speak. 
You  attacked,  I  replied.  ( Turning  his  back  on  him 

and  speaking  to  DE  MAUTPRE)  Sir,  I  repeat  my 

plea, 

And  entreat  you  to  let  Chicot  your  servant  be, 
Servant  and  histrion,  mimic,  musician,  I 
Care  not  if  I  must  clown,  practise  astrology, 
Read  your  eyes  (to  SOLANGE)  or  the  stars,  tell 

you  of  treasure  trove 

In  the  seas,  or  unfold  old  tales  of  mirth  and  love. 
Mine  is  no  purchased  zeal.  I  would  with  humour  gay 


ACT    SECOND  83 

Brighten  your  eyes  again,  brighten  this  dungeon 

gray. 

Lady,  'tis  joy  to  serve  when  one  so  sweet  commands, 
Blows,  even,  were  delight  from  such  rose  petal  hands. 
My  heart  lies  on  the  ground  longing  to  be  your  stool, 
And  'tis  an  honest  one,tho'  the  heart  of  a  fool. 
Swollen  with  pride,  that  heart  no  task  could  find 

more  sweet 
Than  a  footstool  to  be  for  your  two  tiny  feet. 

SOLANGE 
No  compliment  was  ever  turned  more  prettily. 

\  *       •  t 

CHICOT 

My  heart  instructs  the  lips;  sweet  lady,  that  is  why. 

VULCANO 
The  knave  has  wit. 

NICOLE 

He  speaks  fine  and  soft,  that  young  man, 
His  words  fall  on  the  ear  like  dripping  in  the  pan. 

CHICOT 

So  keenly  felt,  sweet  maid,  was  my  desire  to-day 
To  be  your  slave,  that  crest  and  arms  of  de  Maut- 

pre 

I  "broidered  on  my  coat. 
(He  throws  off  his  cloak  and  shows  the  DEMAUTPRE 


84  THE    JESTERS 

arms.  At  the  same  time  everybody  sees  that  he  is 
humpbacked) 

BAROCO 

He  is  humpbacked!  Oho! 
An  Aesop  he  may  be,  but  not  an  Apollo. 
(BAROCO  should  almost  crow  the  word  Apollo) 

CHICOT 

Of  Aesop  I  have  both  the  figure  and  the  walk, 
And  like  him,  too,  the  pow'r  to  make  a  donkey  talk. 

OLIVER,  aside 

If  he  would  wed  Solange,  this  ornament  is  strange. 
Why  wear  a  thing  which  must  a  maiden's  heart 

estrange? 
He  had  no  hump  before. 

SOLANGE 

How  sad  that  such  a  mind 
As  his  in  such  a  form  by  fate  should  be  confined! 

VULCANO 
Three-cornered  like  his  hat! 

BAROCO 

Like  Pisa's  tow'r  he  leans. 

CHICOT 
I  see  you  wish  to  know,  all  of  you,  what  this  means. 


ACT   SECOND  85 

SOLANGE 

Nay,  nay! 

CHICOT 

Oh,  never  fear  to  wound  me.  In  a  trice 
You  will  see  that  to  talk  of  it 's  no  sacrifice. 
You  all  think  my  hump  a  misfortune.  Not  a  jot! 
And  I  should  pray  to  have  a  hump  had  I  it  not. 
Ill  add  something  which  may  perhaps  astonish  you, 
Sometimes  I  feel  regret  that  I  cannot  have  two. 
You  glory  in  the  straight  backs  God  gave  you,  but 

know 

If  my  back  could  be  straight  I  would  not  have  it  so, 
And  though  my  hump  may  not  find  favour  in  your 

eyes, 
Could  I  change  it  I  would  have  one  of  twice  the 

size. 
Surely  you  know  what  luck  a  hump  brings  in  its 

train 

If  you  but  touch  it  once.  While  if  you  touch  again 
Luck  is  yours  all  your  life.  Maidens  of  high  degree 
For  just  one  single  touch  have  sweetly  smiled  on  me, 
And  lovers  often  beg  upon  my  back  to  write 
Their  love-letters  for  luck.  Merchants  come  in  the 

night 

And  ask  my  hump  to  touch,  and  lest  I  fear  the  cold 
Offer  to  warm  the  place  with  bags  of  good  red  gold. 


86  THE   JESTERS 

Had  I  the  taste  to  use  my  hump  as  use't  I  can 
I  should  not  be  here  now ;  I  'd  be  a  wealthy  man. 
Mines  may  be  emptied,but  never,  it  seems  to  me, 
Can  we  quite  exhaust  all  human  credulity. 
T  is  enough  nowadays  an  you  'd  be  rich  or  great 
To  have  a  crooked  back — and — not  to  be  quite 

straight. 

Fools — amateurs — of  me  often  delight  to  say 
That  from  the  casement  my  nurse  let  me  drop  one 

day. 

No,  sirs !  When  I  was  young  I  was  as  straight  as  you, 
My  back  was  flat  and  I  was  quite  as  foolish,  too. 
Then  my  brain  grew  and  grew  till  my  head  was  too 

small 
To  hold  the  brain  which  pressed  hard  on  the  frontal 

wall, 

And  all  the  doctors  said  that  I  was  sure  to  die, 
Killed  by  too  great  a  brain — too  much  precocity. 
One  day  my  mother,  as  she  bathed  and  dressed  me, 

found 
My  forehead  normal  quite  and  on  my  back  this 

mound 
Of  knowledge  grown.  My  brain,  ill  at  ease  in  my 

head, 

Had  found  its  way,  while  I  lay  fast  asleep  in  bed, 
Into  snug  quarters.  Lest  I  pain  should  have  endured 


ACT   SECOND  87 

My  mother  kissed  the  place,  and  I,  my  friends,  was 
cured. 

VULCANO 

This  rogue  must  surely  have  the  devil  for  a  friend 
If  such  case  to  his  needs  he  can  so  neatly  bend. 
Answer  him,  Baroco.  Cospetto!  As  I  live, — 
An  answer  some  one  must  to  him  try  to  contrive, 
Or  he  will  win. 

BAROCO 

Pray,  what  does  the  young  man  conclude 
From  this  defence  of  his — er — I  would  not  be  rude — 
Of  his  protuberance? 

CHICOT 

Conclusions  you  require, 
Baroco ;  your  delightful  crassness  I  admire. 
I  conclude  that  to  have  no  hump  upon  your  back 
Shows  that  in  common  sense  and  in  brain  pow'r  you 

lack, 

And  that  your  brainpan  must  rattle,  it  seems  to  me, 
Your  little  brain  about  like  a  small  dried-up  pea. 
(General  laughter) 

BAROCO 

Why,  you  insult  us  all!  Baron  de  Mautpre  too! 
He  has  no  hump. 

CHICOT 
I  know — But(fo  MAUTPRE),  good  my  lord,  with  you 


88  THE   JESTERS 

'Tis  not  the  same.  Your  brain  is  stocked  with  all 

the  lore 

Of  the  long  line  of  great  men  who  have  gone  before. 
There  is  no  need  for  you  to  have  as  great  a  size 
Of  brain  as  I.  You  draw  wisdom  from  Paradise. 

MAUTPRE,  laughing 

Nay,  now,  Chicot.  No  more.  For  if  I  list  to  you 
Longer  I  shall  regret  I  am  not  hunchbacked  too. 

BAROCO,  to  CHICOT 

Prithee  one  question  more.  Gifted  one,  tell  us  why 
Such  a  rare  bird  as  you  from  his  gilt  cage  could  fly, 
Tell  us  why  your  last  lord  from  his  Chicot  did  part. 

CHICOT 

Ah,  wretched  man !  You  must,  I  see,  revive  the  smart 
Of  vain  regret,  and  with  this  question  must  enforce 
Me  to  feel  bitter  pangs  of  never  stilled  remorse. 
(Very  solemnly)  Why  did  I  leave  him?  Why?  To 

Heaven  oft  I've  cried 

Up  the  same  question.  Know,  it  was  my  fault  he  died. 
Struck  (everybody  shudders)  by  a  jest  of  mine 

which  I  had  made  too  well, 
My  noble  master  laughed  till  his  sides  cracked,  and 

fell 
Into  ten  thousand  bits!  Yes,  at  my  joke  accurst, 


ACT   SECOND  89 

My  master  laughed  and  died.  For  he  laughed  till  he 

burst. 

MAUTPRE 

So!  (To  VULCANO)TO  all  five  now  show  the  rooms 

where  they  may  sleep, 

And  ev'ry  day  on  the  terrace  above  the  keep 
We  will  hold  tourney,  till  after  the  thirty  days 
My  daughter  shall  award  her  meed  of  blame  or 

praise, 

Shall  choose  the  jester  who  shall  remain  in  our  pay 
And  with  his  wit  amuse  fair  Solange  de  Mautpre. 
(Everybody  rises) 

OLIVER 
to  VULCAN  appointing  to  HILARIUS,  BAROCO,  and 

JACK  PUDDING 

Let  none  of  these  approach  the  cellar  door  too  near. 

VULCANO 
I  have  concealed  the  key. 

OLIVER 
Where? 

VULCANO 

In  my  pocket  here. 

(All go  out  except  DE  MAUTPRE  and  his  daughter, 
who  go  up  to  the  window  and  remain  there,  talking, 
and  OLIVER,  NARCISSUS,  and  CHICOT.  As  the  jes- 
ters go  out,) 


90  THE   JESTERS 

HILARIUS 

I  hope  my  room  is  near  the  wine  vaults,  I  am  dry. 

PUDDING 
I  hope  the  kitchen  is  not  too  far  off. 

OLIVER 
who  has  been  talking  to  CHICOT  and  NARCISSUS 

Now  I 

Will  show  you  to  your  rooms.  The  Baron  listens. 

(Changing  his  voice  and  speaking  sharply)  Now 

Youtwohave  surely  gazed  down  on  those  fields  enow! 

Come  with  me.  Would  you  keep  me  waiting  here 

all  day? 

Come  with  me,  sirs.  (  The  BARON  turns  to  the  window 
again) 

Excuse  this  rudeness,  sirs,  I  pray. 
(They  go  out)  » 

MAUTPRE,  to  SOLANGE 

Ah,  may  you,  sweet,  be  cured  by  this  odd  remedy ! 

SOLANGE 

It  is  a  good  one,  father,  for  my  malady. 

MAUTPRE,  kisses  her  and  going  out 
Her  forehead  is  quite  cool,  her  colour  unchanged. 

Still, 
Oliver,  who's  a  leech,  says  she  is  very  ill.      (Exit) 


ACT   SECOND  91 

s  o  L  A  N  G  E  ,  alone,  meditatively 
How  wondrously  he  speaks.  All  things  he  seems  to 

know; 

I  wonder  how  he  came  to  be  a  clown,  Chicot! 
Were  he  a  noble  —  Oh,  how  lonely  I  have  been.  — 
He's  but  a  low-born  clown  —  and  I  am  seventeen. 

(She  goes  back  to  the  window  and  does  not  see  o  L  f  v  E  R  , 
NARCISSUS,  and  CHICOT  who  come  in  quietly) 

CHICOT 

She  is  there.  Speak  to  her.  Both  of  us  long  to  learn 
What  she  thought  of  us.  Go. 

NARCISSUS 

With  impatience  I  burn. 
Pray  ask  her. 


Well,  Solange? 

SOLANGE 

Oliver? 

NARCISSUS 

to  CHICOT,  continuing  an  argument  begun  outside 

It  is  true 

Her  eyes  were  turned  to  m  e  tho'  her  ears  turned  to  you  . 
She  listened  while  you  spoke,  attention  never  slept, 
But  't  was  always  on  me  her  lovely  eyes  were  kept. 


92  THE   JESTERS 

CHICOT 

Why,  man,  she  drank  my  words. 

OLIVER 

And  so  my  young  men  gain 

Upon  acquaintance,  eh?  Which  for  my  lady's  train 
Would  she  prefer? 

s  o  L  A  N  G  E  ,  carelessly 

F  faith,  old  friend,  I  hardly  know. 
Narcissus  handsome  is,  brimful  of  wit  Chicot. 
Both  are  but  servants,  though.  (Dreaming  again) 

If  Chicot  count  had  been, 
And  I  a  lady-in-waiting  upon  the  queen, 
Narcissus  a  young  lord — then — 

OLIVER 

Then? 

SOLANGE 

I  do  not  know. 

Oh,  Oliver,  my  friend,  why  do  you  plague  me  so? 

This  tourney's  meaning  you  to  me  have  not  ex- 
plained, 

My  illness,  and  the  clowns.  By  these  what  will  be 
gained? 

I'm  lonely  yet.  Where  is  my  fairy  prince,  I  pray? 

You  promised  one  should  come. 


ACT   SECOND  93 

OLIVER,  embracing  her  affectionately 

Child,  he — is  on  the  way. 


CURTAIN 


THE    THIRD    ACT 


ACT    THIRD 

The  terrace  above  the  keep.  A  broad  and  beautiful 
terrace,  with  a  magnificent  view  over  the  cmmtry. 
It  is  late  afternoon  of  a  glorious  summer  day.  The 
sun  sets  during  the  course  of  the  act.  As  the  curtain 
rises  JACQUES,  JULIAN,  and  PIERRE,  dressed  as 
men-at-arms,  loll  about  and  chat. 

JACQUES 

How  hot  it  is !  This  stone  bench  upon  which  I  lie 
Is  like  an  oven's  shelf,  and  I  feel  like  a  pie 
Crusted  with  steel. 

PIERRE 

Were  I  an  enemy  to  scan 
I  'd  give  him  my  cuirass  in  exchange  for  a  fan. 

JULIAN 

I  would  right  gladly  give  him  up  the  postern  key 
If  he  would  find  a  place  where  I  could  cooler  be. 

PIERRE 

I  too  would  yield  him  up  the  castle  in  a  trice 
If  in  my  mouth  he'd  drop  a  little  piece  of  ice. 

JACQUES 

In  this  heat  but  few  wake.  T  is  hard  that  we  should 
be 


98  THE   JESTERS 

Posted  here  under  arms  to  please  the  fantasy 
Of  Vulcano. 

PIERRE 
And  this  without  a  crown  for  pay! 

JACQUES 

I  shall  talk  to  Chicot  about  our  wrongs  to-day; 
He  with  a  quip  can  speak  about  this  chest  of  gold 
Which  warmed  our  fancies,  but  which  leaves  our 

pockets  cold. 
But  why  does  Vulcano  keep  us  so  long  on  guard? 

PIERRE 
I  can  smell  dinner  stewing. 

JACQUES 

So  can  I.  'T  is  hard. 

A  captain  at  this  hour  should  not  expect  his  troop 
To  conquer  hunger's  pangs,  but  to  attack  the  soup. 

JULIAN,  uncorking  his  flask  and  raising  it 
When  'tis  so  hot  as  this  I  sometimes  wish  that  I 
Had  been  born  without  hands  and  without  arms. 

Enter  VULCANO 

PIERRE 

But  why? 

JULIAN 

Why?  Why,  because  I  then  no  work  need  try  to  do. 


ACT   THIRD  99 

I  'd  rest,  and  eat,  and  sleep,  and  drink  a  year  or 

two. 

(He  raises  his  bottle  to  his  lips.  VULCANO,  who  is 
behind  him,  takes  it  out  of  his  lifted  hand) 

VULCANO 

Numskull  and  triple  dolt !  Did  you  then  never  think 

That  without  hands  you  could  not  unassisted  drink? 

(JULIAN  makes  a  grab  for  his  bottle,  but  VULCANO 
keeps  it  out  of  his  reach) 

Oh!  You  will  answer  me,  that  dogs  and  cats,  may- 
hap, 

With  head  bent  drink  their  fill.  No,  fool !  They  can 
but  lap, 

And  lapping  you  do  miss  the  savour  of  the  wine 

(Drinks)  Which  we  enjoy  who  use  of  hand  and  lip 
combine. 

Why !  drinking  is  an  art !  First  one  delights  the  eye 

With  the  red  fire  which  gleams  thro'  the  wine 
cheerily. 

Then  our  nose  humes  its  scent,  and  then  our  greedy 
lip, 

Moist,  eager  with  desire,  takes  one  first  tiny  sip. 

Master  Tongue  follows,  tastes,  passes  the  good 
wine  to 

Dame  Palate,  who  enjoys  the  molten  rubies,  who, 


100  THE  JESTERS 

Having  enjoyed  them,  lets  the  red  wine,  drop  by 

drop, 
Roll  slowly  down  our  throat.  Then  for  a  while  we 

stop, 

Teasing  our  appetite  until  we  can  no  more 
Outrival  Tantalus,  and  then  we  open  door, 
Let  the  wine  gurgle  down  in  its  perfumed  stream 
Until  Silenus'  self  does  not  our  rival  seem. 
So  with  unending  care,  and  not  as  filthy  swine 
Slobber  their  hogwash  down,  varlets,  should  you 

drink  wine, 

And  I  am  glad  I  seized  bottle  and  chance  before 
You  had  the  time  to  drink  your  wine  wrong  any 

more. 

Go,  now,  and  eat  your  fill  and  pray  tell  Baroco 
That  I  would  speak  with  him.  Off  with  ye,  varlets, 

go! 
(He  throws  JULIAN  his  empty  bottle) 

JACQUES 

Here  the  man  comes. 

(Exeunt  the  men-at-arms.  Enter  BAROCO,  who  is 
finishing  his  dinner) 

VUI.CANO 
What  now !  Red,  and  all  out  of  breath  ? 


ACT   THIRD  101 

BAROCO 

Lord! 

VULCANO 

Your  mouth  full,  chewing  your  dinner  still !  God's 

death! 

This  is  no  man  of  brain  and  wit  whose  ev'ry  mood 
Turns  upon  song,  it  is  but  a  great  sack  of  food. 

BAROCO 
My  appetite  is  good. 

VULCANO 

But  your  position  bad 
Unless  at  once  you  set  your  brain  to  work,  my  lad. 

BAROCO 
Bad? 

VULCANO 

Aye!  You  greedy  knave!  See  you  not  that  Chicot 
Crushes  you  all?  That  you  all  will  most  surely  go 
Out  on  the  road  again  unless  you  prove  that  you 
Can  turn  an  epigram,  something  save  eat  can  do? 
Each  ev'ning,  as  you  know,  fair  Solange  does  pro- 
pound 

A  subject  upon  which  with  touch  light  or  profound 
Each  jester  must  devise.  Each  ev'ning  you  are  left 
By  Chicot  far  behind.  Art  of  all  sense  bereft 
That  you  no  effort  make?  He  has  a  touch  so  sure 


102  THE   JESTERS 

That  ev'ry  day  he  makes  his  chance  the  more  secure. 
Yester  eve  't  was  the  moon,  who  was,  he  said,  an 

old 

Fairy  transformed  because  of  her  great  love  of  gold 
Into  a  cheese  by  a  mighty  magician's  spell, 
And  now  lies  shivering  down  in  the  castle  well. 
Then  'twas  the  glow-worms,  which  Chicot  declared 

to  be 

The  souls  of  children.  But,  Baroco,  you  must  see 
That  unless  you,  too,  can  something  of  wit  devise 
You  must,  all  surely,  fail  in  this  your  enterprise. 
To-day,  again,  will  meet  here  Mautpre's  court  of 

wit, 
Have  you,  then,  aught  prepared  for  when  you're 

called  to  it? 

(BAROCO  shakes  his  head) 
Nothing!  And  once  again  like  a  whipped  cur  you'll 

go 
To  your  beds  vanquished  by  that  knave  of  knaves 

Chicot. 

Your  wit  to  his  is  like  a  burnt  brand  to  the  sun, 
What  he  is  finishing  you,  fool,  have  not  begun, 
And  you  must  something  find,  for  the  month  passes 

by 

And  a  choice  will  be  made,  when  't  is  a  surety 
Fair  Solange  will  declare  Narcissus  or  Chicot 


ACT    THIRD  103 

The  tourney's  victor,  and  your  day's  done,  Baroco. 

BAROCO 
Dio!  And  once  again  must  I  go  hungry!  I  — 

VULCANO 

Not  if  you  effort  make.  This  ev'ning  you  must  try 
To  better  what  Chicot  devises. 

BAROCO 

So  I  will. 

VULCANO 

Then  come !  And  search  your  brain  for  sentiments 

until 

The  tourney  opens.  Come  with  me  and  I  will  oil 
Your  rusty  brain  so  that  invention's  arduous  toil 
Shall  be  more  easy.  I  have  a  liqueur  below 
Which  shall  help  you  to  find  an  answer  to  Chicot. 
Courage  then,  and  anon  your  eloquence  shall  be 
An  honour  to  myself,  thyself,  and  Italy ! 
(They  go  out.  Enter  NARCISSUS  and  CHICOT) 

NARCISSUS 

At  last  the  hour  draws  nigh  when  one  can  breathe 
again. 

CHICOT,  looking  at  the  sunset 

The  hour,  say  rather,  when  a  man  must  feel  how 
vain 


104  THE    JESTERS 

Is  unbelief.  The  hour  when  God  chose  to  impart 
The  first  seeds  of  belief  to  ev'ry  doubting  heart. 
Look  at  the  sky.  See  how  its  robe  of  blue  and  white 
Has  purpled  into  crimson  and  to  gold  to-night, 
Then  watch  the  sunbeams  die,  God  putting  out  the 

flame, 

While  the  whole  world  in  pray'r  murmurs  its  Mas- 
ter's name. 

NARCISSUS 
You  are  quite  lyric,  friend !  Have  you  turned  poet 

too 
As  well  as  jester?  What  can  have  come  over  you? 

CHICOT 

Nay,  Robert,  mock  me  not.  There  comes  to  ev'ry  one 
A  day  when,  wondering,  watching  the  setting  sun, 
Mystery  fills  the  soul,  the  heart  swells  and  the  eyes 
Fill  with  tears,  yearning  for  a  distant  Paradise. 
We  feel  more  deeply  all  that  happens  and  we  move 
Along  life's  path  in  dreamland,  for  we  are  in  love. 

NARCISSUS 

In  love?  Then  fair  Solange,  my  friend,  has  con- 
quered you, 
The  man  of  wit. 

CHICOT 
Mock  not.  Mock  not. 


ACT    THIRD  105 

NARCISSUS 

after  a  slight  pause  and  quite  simply  and  quietly 

I  love  her  too. 

CHICOT 

So  shall  our  bet  lead  on  to   word  warfare  and 
strife — 

NARCISSUS 
In  which  the  one  must  win,  the  other  lose,  a  wife. 

CHICOT 

Do  you  your  best,  my  friend !  I  for  my  part  shall  do 
All  a  man  can  to  win  Solange's  hand  from  you. 

NARCISSUS 

And  I  from  you  that  hand  to  win  shall  try.  I  fear 
You,  Rene,  more  to-night,  though,  than — 

CHICOT 

Hush !  They  are  here. 

(Enter  from  the  castle  SOLANGE,  MAUTPRE,  OLI- 
VER,  NICOLE,    JACQUES,    PIERRE,   and  JULIAN, 

and  a  little  later  VULCANO  and  BAROCO.  From  the 
other  side  enter  JACK  PUDDING  and  HILARIUS) 

OLIVER 

Come,  sound  the  bugle  call.  The  tourney  must  be- 
gin! 


106  THE   JESTERS 

All  take  your  places. — You,  Pierre,  call  our  people 

in. 
(All  take  their  places) 

SOLANGE 

I  love  the  breeze  of  evening  now  that  the  sun 
Has  sunk  to  rest.  To-day  true  pleasure  was  there 

none 

In  active  movement.  I  slumbered  thro'  half  the  day 
Watching  from  under  heavy  lids  my  dog  at  play, 
Too  hot  to  play  myself,  too  hot  to  feed  my  dove, 
Too  hot  for  needlework,  too  hot  indeed  to  move. 

NARCISSUS 

Had  I,  fair  lady,  an  enchanter's  magic  pow'r 
You  had  not  suffered  from  the  heat  a  single  hour. 


NARCISSUS 

I  had  become  a  storm  to  quell 
The  sun's  hot  rays  with  rain. 

CHICOT 

And  I  my  magic  spell 

I  would,  had  I  possessed  the  power,  used  to  blow 
The  sun  out  altogether. 


ACT   THIRD  107 

SOLANGE 

No,  indeed,  Chicot, 
That  would  have  frightened  me. 

CHICOT 

Then,  lady,  would  I  bend 

The  swallows  to  my  wish,  and  ev'ry  bird  should  lend 
Their  flapping  wings  to  fan  with  gently  soothing 

stir 
The  breezes  round  your  head  and  neck. 

SOLANGE 

I  thank  you,  sir, 
Now  I  am  better. 

OLIVER 

Come.  The  tourney  we  begin, 
Which,  of  our  jesters  here,  but  one  alone  can  win. 
Your  places,  pray.  Here  sits  the  queen  and  here  the 

king, 
The  others  here  and  here  will  form  the  jousting 

ring 
In  which  with  ready  wit  you  five  brave  fools  shall 

fight. 
Knights  of  the  cap  and  bells,  prepare!  Be  sure  the 

right 
God  will  defend. 


108  THE   JESTERS 

VULCANO 

'Tis  well.  Art  ready,  Baroco? 

BAROCO 
who  is  slightly  excited  by  the  wine  he  has  drunk  and 

who  has  the  bottle  with  him 
Ready  am  I  and  primed  brimful,  my  Vulcano! 
This  wine  is  Moses'  staff  which  can  set  free  the 

stream 
Of  wit  from  stony  brains,  and  I  have  dreamed  a 

dream! 

You  shall  see,  Vulcano,  me  carry  off  the  prize 
And  win  distinction  in  our  gentle  lady's  eyes. 

VULCANO,  uneasily 
Have  you  not  drunk  too  much  ? 

OLIVER 

Now  an  our  lady  please 
To  name  a  subject  for  discourse? 

SOLANGE 

I  name  the  breeze 
Of  which  we  have  just  spoken.  'Tis  to-night  my 

whim 
That  each  do  tell  us  what  the  breeze  suggests  to  him. 

OLIVER,  announcing 
The  breeze ! 


ACT   THIRD  109 

CHICOT 

A  pretty  subject. 

HILARIUS 

A  sad  one. 

BAROCO 

Confused. 

OLIVER 

Hilarius,  you  first.  Now,  sir,  keep  us  amused. 

HILARIUS 

The  breeze.  (A  pause) 

MAUTPRE 

Well,  sir? 

HILARIUS 

The  breeze  howls  through  the  winter  night, 

Keeps  us  awake  and  drives  the  women  mad  with 
fright, 

Lugubriously  howls  and  whistles  on  its  way. 

Death  on  its  path  it  spreads,  horror  and  wild  dis- 
may, 

Death  on  the  ships  at  sea,  widows  along  the  shore, 

Misery,  wounds,  and  death. 

MAUTPRE 

We  prithee,  sir,  no  more ! 


110  THE   JESTERS 

This  wit  of  yours  is  grim  and  makes  our  blood  run 
cold. 

HILARIUS,  more  dolefully  than  ever 
I  am  gay  as  a  rule  and  I  am  always  told 
That  my  wit  lightsome  is  and  as  a  song-bird  gay. 
You  must  excuse  me  if  family  cares  to-day 
Sadden  me. 

OLIVER 

Far  from  me  be  it  your  grief  to  blame, 
But  I  would  fain  point  out  that  each  day  't  is  the 

same. 

Every  day  your  tale  is  a  dark  tale  of  woe. 
We  asked  for  jesters.  . 

HILARIUS 
Well?  Am  I  no  jester? 

OLIVER 

No. 

If  my  opinion  should  weigh  with  you  in  the  least 
I  would  suggest  that  you  become  a  Trappist  priest. 
'T  is  your  vocation. 

MAUTPRE 

Now,  Narcissus,  an  it  please 

You  to  stand  forth,  we'd  hear  you  discourse  on  the 
breeze. 


ACT   THIRD  111 

NARCISSUS 

There's  elegance  in  the  breeze. 
She  is  so  debonair, 
Softens  the  summer  heat, 
Ripples  a  maiden's  hair 
With  a  desire  to  please. 
There's  elegance  in  the  breeze. 

There's  cleverness  in  the  breeze. 
Without  her  aid  each  fold 
Of  this  my  cloak  would  hang 
Heavily,  stiffly  cold, 
Cold  as  life's  ironies. 
There's  cleverness  in  the  breeze. 

The  breeze  is  a  winsome  maid, 
Merrily,  gaily  bright, 
Frolicsome,  with  a  depth 
Of  human  love  to-night, 
Warmhearted,  unafraid. 
The  breeze  is  a  winsome  maid. 

The  breeze  is  fantastic,  she 
Loves  with  light  things  to  play, 
Lifting  up,  sweeping  off 
All  that  endure  her  sway, 


112  THE   JESTERS 

In  a  whirlwind  of  glee. 
The  breeze  has  her  fantasy. 

The  breeze  is  the  soldier's  friend, 

Spreads  with  her  forceful  wave 

The  flapping  flag  which  makes 

Even  a  coward  brave 

To  attack  or  defend. 

The  breeze  is  the  soldier's  friend. 

The  breeze  is  the  friend  of  love, 
Whirling  my  heart  to  meet 
Happiness,  untold  joy, 
Low  at  my  lady's  feet, 
Then  up,  her  eyes  to  greet, 
And  its  devotion  prove. 
The  breeze  is  the  friend  of  love. 

Lady,  I  love  the  breeze, 
For  she  is  ne'er  the  same, 
Understands  ev'ry  move 
In  life's  bewild'ring  game. 
May  she  aid  me  to  please! 
Lady,  I  love  the  breeze. 

MAUTPRE 

'T  is  marvellous  well  turned,  Narcissus.  Is 't  not  so, 
Solange  ? 


ACT   THIRD  113 

SOLANGE 

Indeed  'tis  clever. 

VULCANO,  aside 

What  says  Baroco? 

BAROCO 
It  is  well  turned,  quite  well;  indeed,  'tis  wondrous 

fine, 

But  do  but  wait,  my  friend,  until  you  have  heard 
mine. 

SOLANGE 

Narcissus  until  now  is  champion  of  the  breeze. 
Who  takes  the  gauntlet  up,  our  minds  and  ears  to 
please  ? 

OLIVER 

Jack  Pudding's  next.  Nicole!  Your  seat  I  prithee 
keep. 

NICOLE 

who  has  risen  and  is  gazing  in  open-mouthed  admi- 
ration at  NARCISSUS 

His  beauty  would  a  maiden's  virtue  send  to  sleep. 
Beshrew  me !  He  is  handsome. 

MAUTPRE 

Now,  Jack  Pudding,  pray, 
Your  discourse  on  the  breeze  are  we  to  hear  to-day  ? 


114  THE   JESTERS 

JACK  PUDDING,  with  a  silly  chuckle 
I  dunno  if  the  breeze  is  the  friend  of  a  clown, 
But  I  know  that  to  home  it  blows  ripe  apples  down. 
{Everybody  laughs,  JACK  PUDDING  more  loudly 
than  the  rest) 

VULCANO 

Furbish  your  wit  up;  try,  now,  my  friend  Baroco, 
These  gentlefolk  of  France  your  poet's  gift  to  show, 
Give  them  now  of  your  best  and  you  must  surely  win. 

BAROCO 

My  trouble  is  that  I  scarce  know  where  to  begin, 
So  much  have  I  to  say.  Is  it  my  turn  now? 

OLIVER 

No! 

(There  is  a  movement  of  general  interest  and  at- 
tention) 
Upon  the  breeze  the  next  to  discourse  is  Chicot. 

CHICOT 
The  gentle  breeze  which  stirs  the  leaves  of  yonder 

vine 

Recalls  to  me  a  tale — a  favourite  of  mine, 
A  story  which  one  day  in  an  old  book  I  found, 
An  ancient  tome,  gaunt,  grim,  black-lettered,  lea- 
ther-bound, 


ACT  THIRD  115 

Which  tome,  looking  as  though  'twere  filled  with 

tales  of  sin, 

Promised  but  little  of  the  charm  I  found  within. 
'Twas  in  this  book  I  read  the  tale  which,  if  you 

please, 

I  will  repeat  to-night — The  Story  of  the  Breeze. 
A  breeze  one  day,  abroad  on  fun  or  mischief  bent, 
Entered  a  castle  grim,  traversed  the  battlement, 
And  on  the  terrace  found,  sitting  and  spinning 

there, 

A  maiden  of  sixteen,  blue-eyed,  with  golden  hair. 
Blue  were  her  eyes,  and  soft  as  the  young  sky  at 

dawn, 
Or  the  waves  of  the  lake  the  breeze  had  crossed  that 

morn, 

And  as  th'  intruder  loosed  a  strand  of  golden  hair 
The  maid  looked  up  and  laughed,  so  sweet,  so  chaste, 

so  fair, 
That  the  breeze,  who  till  then  had  kissed  and 

whirred  away 

Over  the  trees  and  far,  fickle  until  to-day, 
Knew  that  this  time  his  heart  was  bound  and  teth- 
ered there 

To  that  child  of  sixteen,  blue-eyed,  with  golden  hair, 
For  the  fair  maid  had  won,  won  all  unconsciously, 
A  lover  without  name  and  whom  she  could  not  see, 


116  THE   JESTERS 

While  the  breeze  loved  to  love,  and  for  no  royal 

throne 
Would  have  exchanged  his  right  to  love  her  thus 

unknown. 

Then,  as  he  could  not  bring  her  flowers  all  abloom, 
The  butterflies  he'd  waft  in  shoals  into  her  room 
From  forest  glades  and  fields,  from  near  and  far, 

and  they, 

Blue,  yellow,  red,  and  green,  a  quivering  bouquet, 
He  blew  into  her  hair,  bejewelled  it,  and  then, 
When  he  grew  jealous,  swiftly  blew  them  out  again. 
The  scent  of  new-mown  hay  he  brought  in  from  the 

fields, 
From  evYy  bush  and  flow'r  what  each  of  sweetest 

yields, 

Marjoram,  meadow-sweet,  and  sage  he  carried  there, 
For  the  maid  of  sixteen,  blue-eyed,  with  golden  hair. 
Sometimes  he'd  wander  off,  down  into  far  Provence, 
And  from  the  fairest  lands  of  the  fair  land  of  France 
He  would  come  laden,  back  with  orange  blossoms' 

breath, 
Which  he  had  stolen  e'er  men  crushed  the  blooms 

to  death. 

For  all  that  ailed  the  maid  he  found  a  ready  cure ; 
Were  the  day  stormy,  he  would  fetch  her  air  more 

pure 


ACT   THIRD  117 

From  snowy  mountain-tops,  and  if  she  were  cold, 

why, 

His  own  love  blew  so  warm  he  warmed  her  easily. 
When  she  was  reading  in  works  of  old  bard  or  sage, 
The  breeze  was  waiting  there  to  help  her  turn  the 

page. 
And  when  at  night  she  slept  in  her  white-curtained 

bed, 
He  'd  venture  till  he  touched  his  darling's  golden 

head, 

And,  drunken  with  the  joy  forbidden,  dare  to  sip 
A  kiss  that  maddened  him  from  the  child's  smiling 

lip. 

One  day,  alas!  there  came  a  lord  from  Aquitaine 
To  woo  and  win  the  maid.  He  came  and  came  again, 
And  the  unhappy  breeze  howled  in  his  mad  despair. 
Gone  the  maid  of  sixteen,  blue-eyed,  with  golden 

hair, 

Handsome  the  swain  and  rich,  strong  in  his  man- 
hood's spring,  , 

Blushes,  a  whispered  word,  the  chaplain,  and  a  ring. 
What,  when  a  wooer's  young,  rich,  and  has  all  to 

please, 
What,  against  such  a  man,  can  the  most  perfumed 

breeze  ? 


118  THE  JESTERS 

Off  went  the  breeze,  and  rushed  heartbroken,  de- 
sire-torn, 

Into  the  desert,  where,  anguished,  alone,  forlorn, 
He  gathered  strength  to  rush  back  with  unwonted 

might, 

Batter  the  castle  walls,  howl,  the  unhappy  wight, 
As  though  his  storm-tossed  soul  could  in  the  noise 

find  peace, 

Or,  with  a  whirl  of  rage,  could  his  poor  heart  re- 
lease, 
And  when  the  sexton  old  rang  out  the  marriage 

bell 

So  fiercely  blew  that  he  tolled  a  funereal  knell. 
So  that  no  flow'rs  should  deck  the  couple's  bridal 

way, 

Every  rose-bush  he  swept  into  sad  disarray, 
Murdering  all  the  blooms  he  had  caressed  of  old, 
For  the  sixteen-year  bride,  blue-eyed,  with  hair  of 
gold. 

NICOLE 

He's  set  me  weeping. 

JACQUES 

I  tremble  the  end  to  know. 

SOLANGE 

Poor  little  breeze! 


ACT  THIRD  119 

MAUTPRE 

Upon  your  lips  we  hang,  Chicot, 
Finish  your  story.  We  are  anxious  all,  my  friend, 
With  what  you've  said  entranced,  to  hear  how  it 
will  end. 

CHICOT 

Off  and  away  the  breeze,  sweeping  a  weary  world, 
Off  and  away  he  went,  misery  tossed  and  whirled, 
Came  back  in  two  years'  time,  back  to  the  castle 

old, 
Where  dwelt  the  sweet  young  wife,  blue-eyed,  with 

hair  of  gold ; 

Back  to  the  castle  grim,  and  in  a  cradle  there 
Found  a  wee  baby  girl,  blue-eyed,  with  golden  hair. 
Gently  and  softly  blew,  turning  the  child's  toy 

mill, 

Eager  to  win  a  smile  where  he  had  come  to  kill; 
Turning  the  tiny  mill  as  he  had  kissed  of  old 
The  mother's  sweet  blue  eyes  and  hair  of  burnished 

gold, 

Then  sank  to  endless  rest  under  the  mother's  chair, 
To  dream  of  her  blue  eyes  and  of  her  golden  hair. 

(All  applaud) 

SOLANGE 
I  cannot  speak  my  thanks. 


120  THE  JESTERS 

MAUTPRE 

A  charming  legend. 

VULCANO,  to  BAROCO 

You 
Must  now  tell  yours. 

SOLANGE 

With  pleasure  I  my  duty  do, 
And  for  to-day  with  wreath  of  laurel  crown  Chicot 
The  victor  of  the  breeze's  tourney. 

VULCANO 

Lady,  no! 
E'er  you  decide  you  must  my  friend  Baroco  hear. 

MAUTPRE 
We'll  hear  him.  Justice  is  to  all  our  hearts  most 

dear. 
Now,  sirrah! 

VULCANO 

Now,  my  friend !  Repeat  the  legend  fine 
You  promised  me,  and  show  yourself  a  Florentine. 

BAROCO 
Er— he — 

VULCANO 

Per  Bacco !  Now  what  has  come  over  you  ? 
Speak  up,  man ! 


ACT   THIRD  121 

CHICOT 

That  I  fear  is  more  than  he  can  do. 

VULCANO 
Silence,  I  beg. 

BAROCO 
He — Haw —  (AU  laugh) 

VULCANO 
My  friend  shall  speak,  I  say. 

CHICOT 

By  all  means,  if  he  can.  But  he  does  naught  but 
bray! 

BAROCO,  with  much  difficulty 

Not  on  me,  sirs  and  dames,  is't  fair  to  lay  the  blame, 
I  had  a  legend,  but — but  Chicot's  was  the  same. 

(General     laughter.    VULCANO     shakes     BAROCO 
rudely) 

VULCANO 

Drunkard ! 

BAROCO,  very  drunk 

Your  wine  was  very  potent.  Do  not  touch 
Me,  sir!  How  could  I  dream  that  I  had  drunk  too 

much? 

'Twas  sweet  as  milk.  (Lurching  over  to  CHICOT) 
He  stole — 


122  THE   JESTERS 

CHICOT 

Hola!  Hold  up  there!  Well, 
Baroco  wishes  me  the  tale  for  him  to  tell 
Which  he  upon  the  breeze  had  ready,  and  which  now 
Emotion  deep  has  stilled  in  his  full  throat,  I  trow. 
An  hour  agone  our  friend,  the  noble  Baroco, 
Feeling  athirst  had  drunk  his  usual  draught, — you 

know 
He  drinks  but  water, — and  he  lay  and  took  his 

ease 

Upon  the  terrace,  when  the  wicked  summer  breeze 
Quaffed  from  his  purpled  face  its  winey  colour,  then 
Between  his  open  lips  swift  blew  it  in  again. 
When  with  some  effort  he  to  his  feet  did  arise 
Baroco  found  that  he,  to  his  intense  surprise, 
Could  neither  walk  nor  run.  His  face  was  not  as  red 
As  it  had  been,  but  he,  poor  man,  was  drunk  instead. 
The  breeze  which  ev'ry  day  passes  him,  I  suppose, 
Had  made  him  drunk  with  wine  quaffed  from  his 

purple  nose. 

BAROCO 
(lurches  forward  to  attack  CHICOT  and  nearly  falls. 

VULCANO  holds  him  up) 
Did  you  hear  what  he  said?  I  must — 

VULCANO 

What  can  you  do, 


ACT   THIRD  123 

You  drunken  pig?  If  I  did  not  look  after  you, 
Why,  what  would  happen? 

BAROCO 

I  should  fall  down,  I  suppose. 
But  look  at  me  and  say,  have  I  a  purple  nose? 
I  'm  nearly  sober.  Why  should  crook-backed  Chicot 

scoff? 

He  can't  walk  straight,  can  he,  nor  sleep  his  hump- 
back off 
Like  I  my  drink? 

VULCANO 
Come,  now! 
(Exeunt  VULCANO  and  BAROCO) 

JULIAN,  to  JACQUES 

Speak  to  him  now. 

JACQUES,  mysteriously 

Chicot, 

We  want  to  ask  you,  for  so  wondrous  well  you  know 
How  to  put  words  in  place  as  they  should  be,  to 

plead 
Our  cause,  for  you  alone  can  help  us  in  our  need. 

CHICOT 
Your  need? 


124  THE   JESTERS 

JACQUES 

Our  purse's  need. 

PIERRE 

The  treasure  must  be  found. 

JULIAN 

We  must  be  paid.  What  good  is  gold  when  under 

ground? 

CHICOT 

Have  all  of  you  gone  mad?  What  is  it  you  would 
ask? 

JACQUES 

Hunting  for  buried  treasure  is  a  thankless  task 
Unless  where  it  is  buried  one  may  know,  and  then  — 

PIERRE 
It  needs  no  sage  to  go  and  dig  it  up  again. 

CHICOT 
What  buried  treasure? 

JACQUES 
Why,  that  of  our  wages,  man. 

CHICOT 
Beshrew  me  if  your  mystery  now  probe  I  can. 

JACQUES 
Come  with  us.  We  '11  explain. 

(JACQUES,    PIERRE,    and   JULIAN   go    out    with 
CHICOT) 


ACT   THIRD  125 

MAUTPRE 

who  has  been  talking  to  OLIVER  and  SOLANGE,  to 

SOLANGE 

Your  eyes  are  overbright, 

Your  cheek  is  flushed,  your  chamber  waits  for  you. 
Good-night. 

(MAUTPREg-ofr?  out.  OLIVER  and  SOL ANGE  remain, 
talking  together.  NICOLE,  who  has  been  hovering 
around  NARCISSUS,  approaches  him) 

NICOLE,  slyly 
Narcissus. 

NARCISSUS 
Dame  Nicole? 

NICOLE,  timidly 

Nay,  't  were  no  burning  shame 
If  you  should  say  Nicole  to  me,  without  the  "dame." 

NARCISSUS,  smiling 
Nicole,  then. 

NICOLE,  offers  him  a  rose 

See,  it  is  the  colour  of  your  hose 
And  of  your  doublet.  So  accept  from  me  this  rose. 

NARCISSUS,  taking  the  rose,  but  looking  puzzled 
Thank  you,  Nicole. 


126  THE   JESTERS 

NICOLE,  growing  more  and  more  enthusiastic 

Let  it  my  feeling  for  me  speak, 
For  it  is  red  as  is  with  shame  each  burning  cheek 
Of  poor  Nicole.  (NARCISSUS  draws  away  from  her) 
Nay,  nay.  Draw  not  thus  oft'  afar, 
Draw  nearer  rather.  (  With  a  sudden  outburst) 

What  a  handsome  man  you  are! 
And  what  an  air!  Alas!  I  am  a  weakling — 

NAECISSUS,  trying  to  stop  her 

Dame — 
NICOLE 
Hush !  I  have  ne'er  endured  such  burning,  such  sweet 

shame 

As  now.  But  when  below,  down  in  the  kitchen  there, 
A  burnished  platter  tells  me  that  my  face  is  fair, 
I  think  of  you,  my  lord  Narcissus,  and  I  can 
Swear  that  no  heart  could  beat  for  a  more  proper 
man. 

NARCISSUS 
But  I  — 

NICOLE 

I  have  for  years  some  little  store  put  by 
Of  crowns,  and  we  could  live,  Narcissus,  wondrously 
Snug. 

NARCISSUS 
We?  Then  you  suggest — ? 


ACT   THIRD  127 

NICOLE 

That  we  two  should  be  wed, 

That  you  should  (taking  his  hand)  share  with  me 
my  fortune  and  (coyly)  my  bed. 

NARCISSUS 

Nicole,  you  flatter  me.  But  I  have  taken  vow 
Never  to  wed.  It  is  too  late  to  tell  you  now 
The  why  and  wherefore,  but,  alas,  it  cannot  be. 
Good  night,  Nicole,  good  night,  and  do  not  dream 

of  me. 
Take  with  you  to  your  couch,  to  read,  your  kitchen 

book.  (As  he  goes  off) 

Solange  I  would  have  won  and  I  have — pleased 

the  cook. 
{He  goes  out  laughing) 

NICOLE 

He's  young  and  timid  yet — a  woman's  craft  and 

will 

Over  his  bashfulness  may  be  triumphant  still. 
(She  goes  after  him) 

OLIVEE 
Solange,  child,  have  you  thought  that  the  time  now 

draws  near 
To  choose  your  jester?  What  of  Narcissus? 


128  THE   JESTERS 

SOLANGE 

I  fear 
That  he  would  cloy  my  taste.  He  thinks  but  of  his 

hose, 

His  doublet,  and  himself.  Speak  to  him,  into  pose 
Instinctively  he  falls,  for  admiration  cries, 
And  looks  himself  o'er  with  ever  adoring  eyes. 
He  is  too  elegant  by  far.  What  need,  I  ask, 
If  the  wine  have  fine  flavour,  for  so  fine  a  flask? 
Why  need  the  outer  man  be  dressed  in  clothes  so 

grand 

When,  were  they  there,  we  could  his  virtues  under- 
stand 

Under  a  humbler  garb.  Narcissus'  flask  is  fine, 
But,  Oliver,  I  do  not  think  I  like  the  wine. 

OLIVER,  aside 
Dear  crystal  heart!  (Aloud)  Then  which,  child,  of 

the  other  four 

Who  have  assembled,  than  Narcissus  pleases  more 
My  sweet  Solange? 

SOLANGE 

Why,  not  that  drunkard  Baroco, 
Hilarius,  or  Jack.  There  is  but  one, —  Chicot. 
And  were  he  not  crook-backed,  oh,  Oliver,  he'd 
be— 


ACT   THIRD  129 


OLIVER 

Yes,  dear,  he  would  be  what? 

SOLANGE,  with  a  little  sigh 

Perfect,  it  seems  to  me. 

OLIVER,  aside 
I  think  I  understand. 

SOLANGE 

Ah,  friend !  Did  you  but  know 
What  wondrous  flow'rs  of  thought  from  the  mind 

of  Chicot 
Sprout  for  my  pleasure!  He  looks  first  into  mine 

eyes, 

Then  pours  his  fancies  out,  witty  or  wondrous  wise, 
Just  as  my  fancy  bids.  Weaves  me  a  legend,  and 
The  whole  world  lies  within  the  hollow  of  my  hand. 
He,  first  of  all  men,  has  successfully  brought  light 
Into  the  darkness  of  my  ignorance's  night, 
He  has  with  words  my  prison  walls  pierced  thro' 

and  thro', 

Has  opened  out  beyond  a  fair  horizon,  too, 
And,  Oliver,  he  has  such  seeds  of  knowledge  sown 
That  he  has  made  my  very  mind  and  heart  his  own. 
When  he  is  gay  I  laugh,  when  sad,  I  am  distressed, 
And  of  the  two  I  hardly  know  which  is  the  best. 


130  THE   JESTERS 

OLIVER,  slyly 
He  makes  you  weep?  Why,  then,  Solange,  it  seems 

to  me 
He  is  no  jester. 

SOLANGE,  to  herself 
Ah !  If  he  could  only  be 
Of  noble  birth  and  if  his  back  were  only  straight. 

OLIVER 
These  things  occur  sometimes,  Solange,  to  those 

who  wait 
Their  time — 

SOLANGE 
What  mean  you  ? 

OLIVER 

Naught.  But  I  have  heard  it  said 
That  crookbacks  lose  their  humps  the  night  before 

they  wed. 
It  is  but  idle  superstition,  of  course. 

SOLANGE 

Oh! 
Then  he  must  wed  to  lose  it,  must  he  ?  Poor  Chicot ! 

(OLIVER  makes  a  sign  to  CHICOT,  who  is  visible  in 
the  wing,  land  goes  out  leaving  CHICOT  and  SO- 
LANGE together) 


ACT  THIRD  131 

CHICOT 

Sighing,  my  lady  ?  Sad  ?  Why,  such  things  cannot  be, 
Sadness  must  always  be  the  child  of  memory, 
And  memory  for  you,  Lady  Solange,  can  ne'er 
Hold  aught  but  gladness  and  joy.  Surely  one  so 

fair, 

On  life's  fair  journey  now  but  starting,  cannot  yet 
Have  ground  for  sighs,  which  are  the  voices  of  re- 
gret. 

SOLANGE 
Who  knows  what  grief  the  fates  may  have  for  me 

in  store? 

I  tremble  as  a  ship  which,  pushed  off  from  the  shore, 
Quivers  and  faces  the  horizon,  knowing  naught 
Of  dangers  with  which  ev'ry  voyage  must  be  fraught. 

CHICOT 

Danger  from  off  your  path,  sweet  maid,  will  dis- 
appear, 
Horizon  brighten,  when  your  dainty  bark  draws 

near, 

And  my  prophetic  eye  beyond  it  clearly  sees 
A  vista  of  an  isle  set  with  groves  of  great  trees, 
Under  whose  shade  all  fears  of  unknown  danger 

cease, 
And  you  live  radiant  in  one  sweet  eternal  peace. 


132  THE   JESTERS 

Run  down  your  little  ship,  fair  lady,  from  the  shore, 
Launch  it,  and  let  your  fears  be  stilled  for  ever- 
more. 

For  you,  sweet  maid,  a  life  I  can  and  do  assure 
Of  happiness  and  peace,  in  safety  and  secure. 
(  With  growing  tenderness) 
An  alchemist  who  sought  perfection's  purity 
Would  have,  Solange,  to  seek  what  God  has  given 

thee, 

For  thou  hast  ev'ry  gift.  A  name  so  sweet  to  voice 
That  it,  as  thou  art,  was,  I  can  but  think,  God's 

choice. 

A  mouth  so  gently  pure  and  lips  so  free  from  guile 
That  from  them  I  believe  the  angels  learned  to  smile. 
Blue  eyes  so  deep,  so  good,  so  earnest,  I  can  tell 
Their  secret.  They  have  been  and  are  Truth's  holy 

well, 
And  the  deep  azure  which  their  bright  depths  glows 

within 
Was  garnered  from  the  skies  when  they  were  Sera- 

phin. 
Your  eyes  in  grandeur  born  have  remained  large, 

and  show 

Wide- opened  wonder  at  the  smallness  here  below, 
And  with  the  glory  of  their  wondrous  heav'nly  birth 
They  put  to  shame  all  that  is  impure  here  on  earth. 


ACT   THIRD  133 

SOLANGE 

Chicot,  what  are  you  saying? 

CHICOT 

Sweet  Solange,  your  soul 
To  open  to  the  sunlight  is  my  life's  one  goal, 
So  that  in  after  years  you  shall  remember  how 
One  summer's  eve  we  sat  where  we  are  sitting  now, 
And  how  a  fool  who  had  learned  wisdom  sitting 

there 
Was  the  first  man  to  tell  you,  sweet,  that  you  are 

fair. 
Ah,  child!  Such  words  as  these  you  oft  again  will 

hear 

From  other  lips  than  mine.  But  in  your  shell -like  ear 
I  first  have  whispered  them ;  trembling  I  first  have 

drawn 

Upon  that  lovely  cheek  womanhood's  early  dawn 
Incarnate  in  a  sweetly  hot  encarmined  blush, 
Painted  on  velvet  tissue  with  impassioned  brush, 
Another's  voice  to  you  the  selfsame  words  may  say, 
But  first  from  me,  Solange,  you  have  heard  them 

to-day, 

And  when  that  other  comes  he  cannot  take  from  me 
The  treasure  of  to-night  stored  in  my  memory. 


134  THE   JESTERS 

SOLANGE 

Another  who  shall  come  ?  I  do  not  understand 
Who  he  may  be. 

CHICOT 

He  is  crowned  king  in  that  fair  land 
I  have  described.  He  will  your  heart  most  surely 

move 
And  fill  to  overflow.  His  name,  Solange,  is  Love. 

SOLANGE 
Love?  What  is  love? 

CHICOT 

Alas!  poets  have  tried  alway 
What  King  Love  is  and  does  with  woven  words  to 

say. 

To  paint  his  godlike  virtues  and  his  vices,  all 
Their  minds  and  all  their  weft  of  words  have  proved 

too  small. 

Love  is  a  gift  Itom  Hell,  an  evil  from  above, 
A  deadly  poison  which  one  loves  to  take  is  Love, 
A  poison  which  imbibed  causes  terrific  pain, 
For  which  all  mortals  who  have  tasted  strive  again. 
Love  is,  will  always  be,  life  in  a  little  space, 
For  death  lurks  in  a  "no,"  life  wells  up  in  a  "yes." 
Love  is  the  mighty  force  which  leads  to  Paradise 
Over  the  foul  morass  of  human  prejudice. 


ACT   THIRD  135 

To  love  is  on  your  road  a  second  self  to  find 
Whose  soul  with  yours  shall  be  forever  fastentwined, 
For  they  were  born  as  twins  beneath  God^s  golden 

throne, 

And  so  born  He  will  not  let  either  live  alone. 
Love  so  met  is  the  friend  to  whom  your  heart  goes 

straight, 
For   whom  your  heart,  throughout,  has  always 

seemed  to  wait, 

Who  is  yours  and  you  his,  in  whose  voice  is  the  ring 
To  which  your  heart  rings  back  in  spite  of  ev'ry- 

thing. 
Love  speaks.  What  matter,  then,  fortune  or  rank 

to  you? 
Love  is  the  master.  Do  you  understand? 

SOLANGE,  in  a  low  voice 

I  do. 

(SOLANGE  and  CHI  COT  rise  from  the  seat  on  which 
they  were  sitting.  SOLANGE  drops,  as  if  by  accident, 
a  rose,  which  CHICOT  picks  up  and  presses  to  his 
lips.  As  SOLANGE  goes  slowly  out,  CHICOT  stands 
gazing  after  her) 

VERY   SLOW  CURTAIN 


THE     FOURTH     ACT 


ACT     FOURTH 

The  castle  keep,  overgrown  with  creepers,  flowers, 
moss,  and  ivy,  with  the  old  postern  gate,  through 
which  access  may  be  gained  into  the  castle.  A  path- 
way runs  around  the  top  of  the  keep  wall,  up  to  which 
the  characters  can  climb  by  a  small  stone  stair. 
BAROCO,  HILARIUS,  and  JACK  PUDDING  are  dis- 
covered as  the  curtain  rises.  They  are  preparing 
their  bundles  for  departure. 

JACK  PUDDING 

WELL,  we  must  go,  it  seems. 

BAROCO 

No  more  de  Mautpre's  wine 

Will,  trickling  down,  console  this  thirsty  throat  of 
mine. 

HILARIUS 
No  more  de  Mautpre's  fowls,  their  breasts  so  plump, 

so  white, 
Boiled  or  roast,  shall  I  have  to  stay  my  appetite. 

BAROCO 

The  devil  take  Narcissus  and  crook-backed  Chicot ! 
The  month  is  over  and  we  three  must  surely  go, 
For  when  Solange  this  evening  shall  choose,  not  you 
Nor  I  shall  win,  but  one  out  of  those  cursed  two. 


140  THE   JESTERS 

HILARIUS 

Yes,  we  shall  surely  leave  the  castle  of  Mautpre 
To-morrow  at  the  latest.  I  am  far  from  gay 
When  I  think  of  the  future. 

BAROCO 

Say  you  so?  And  I 

Could,  when  I  think  of  it,  with  raging  fury  cry 
Out  on  my  belly,  for  I  know  not  where  nor  how 
I  shall  find  meat  nor  drink  with  which  to  fill  it  now. 

JACK  PUDDING 

Well,  since  Mautpre  will  not  accept  my  jest  nor 

song, 
I  '11  take  some  apples  in  my  pack  with  me.  (He  goes 

out) 

HILARIUS 

I  long 

So  for  those  tender  birds  that,  lest  my  heart  should 

break, 
I'll  go  and  wring  a  neck  or  two  for  friendship's 

sake, 
And  take  them  with  me.  (He  goes  out) 

BAROCO 

I  some  wine  will  pack  away 
Snug  in  this  bottle,  for  I  fear  I  shall  not  stay 
After  to-night. 


ACT   FOURTH  141 

Enter  VULCANO 

VULCANO 

Hola !  What  have  you  tied  up  there 
Into  that  bundle  ? 

BAROCO 

Sir,  the  few  poor  rags  I  wear, 
And  these  (holds  bundle  up)  are  all  the  goods  that 

I,  poor  fool,  possess. 
I  leave  the  castle,  sir,  in  truly  deep  distress. 

VULCANO 
You  leave  it?  You  intend  to  leave  us,  Baroco? 

BAROCO 
Since  no  one  can  prevent  my  going,  sir,  I  go. 

VULCANO 
Nobody  can  prevent?  How  mean  you?  Cannot  I — 

BAROCO 

Nay,  my  lord,  you  shall  not  through  me  court  in- 
jury- 

These  jesters  twain,  of  whom  Solange  one  will  ap- 
point 

To-night  to  stay,  have  put  our  noses  out  of  joint. 

VULCANO 
Our  noses? 


142  THE   JESTERS 

BAROCO 

Aye,  indeed !  I  shall  not  be  perplexed 
To  guess  whom  they  will  try,  sir,  to  get  rid  of  next. 

VULCANO 

Can  you  mean  me?  (BAROCO  nods)  Get  rid  of  me? 
of  Vulcano? 

BAROCO 
Why  not,  sir  ?  They  are  strong  in  favour.  You  will 

g°» 

I  trust,  without  a  turmoil,  will  not,  I  suppose, 

Be  rash,  resist  them,  and  resort  to  threats  or  blows? 

VULCANO,  furiously  angry 

I  will  not  ?  Aha !  You,  my  friend,  to-night  shall  see, 
Whether  I,  Vulcano,  can  with  impunity 
Be  bearded  by  this  stripling  pair. 

BAROCO,  aside 

I  '11  not  assuage 

His  anger  once  roused.  He  may  help  me  in  his  rage. 
(Aloud)  Nay,  sir,  be  patient.  With  affront  and  in- 
sult bear 
As  we  have  done,  and  go;  for  each  must  take  his 

share 
Of  shame  and  cry  content. 


ACT    FOURTH  143 

VULCANO 

Not  I,  by  Mai's!  Ah,  no! 

They  shall  see  what  it  means  to  insult  Vulcano ! 
By  Satan's  cloven  hoof,  and  by  the  two  ram's  horns 
Upon  his  head !  no  man  shall  trample  on  my  corns ! 
Upon  my  head  I  swear,  by  all  that  I  hold  dear 
I  now  make  oath,  you  shall  alone  be  jester  here ! 
Dost  hear  me,  Baroco  ?  Aye,  if  I  have  to  pound 
These  walls  into  a  powder,  raze  them  to  the  ground, 
Thou  shalt  be  chosen  and  thou  hast  my  plighted 

word. 
Go  put  away  that  (pointing-  to  bundle)',  I  will  fetch 

and  gird  my  sword.  (He  goes  out) 

BAROCO,  slyly 

Baroco  is  no  fool.  Methinks  I've  found  the  way 
Into  the  graces  of  the  Baron  de  Mautpre. 

(He  goes  out) 

Enter  CHICQT,  followed  by  JACQUES,  JULIAN,  and 
PIERRE 

CHICOT 

Be  patient.  You  will  see  the  Baron  de  Mautpre 
Will  pay  you  all  in  full. 

JACQUES 

But  when? 


144 


"Some  other  day" 

Of  course.  So  't  was  before  and  so  't  will  be  again. 
My  patience  has  become  too  weak  to  bear  the  strain. 

JULIAN 
Always  "to-morrow"  'tis  and  always  "patience" 

too. 

Enter  OLIVER 

OLIVER 

Grumbling  again !  I1  faith,  methinks  a  night  or  two 
Down  in  the  dungeon  there  would  do  ye  grumblers 

good, 

And  make  ye  grumble  at  a  far  less  wholesome  food 
Than  Nicole  serves  ye.  Or  a  thwacking  blow  or 

twain 
From  Vulcano's  great  staff  might  make  for  peace 

again. 
In  with  ye  all ! 

JACQUES 

This  time  we  11  say  no  more.  Who  knows 
(Sullenly)  Next  time  it  may  be  we  who  can  deal 

out  the  blows. 

(Exeunt  JACQUES,  PIERRE,  and  JULIAN) 

CHICOT,  to  OLIVER 

Are  we  alone? 


ACT   FOURTH  145 

OLIVER 

We  are. 

CHICOT 

Speak  quickly.  You  have  been 
Down  to  the  wood  and  you  my  man  down  there 
have  seen? 

OLIVER 
Yes. 

CHICOT 

Well?  What  did  he  say?  Beshrew  me!  But  a  week 
Passes  between  each  two  words  you  vouchsafe  to 
speak. 

OLIVER 

He  told  me  that  he  had  in  readiness  a  horse, 
Four  men,  and  the  great  chest. 

CHICOT 

Yes,  then? 

OLIVER 

I  said,  of  course, 

Just  as  you  told  me,  that  when  he  should  see  a  white 
Kerchief  wave  from  above  the  battlemented  height 
Of  Mautpre's  castle,  he  should  hasten  here  with 

speed 
With  men,  horse,  and  the  chest. 


146  THE   JESTERS 

CHICOT 

You  are  in  very  deed 

A  trusty  friend  to  me,  and  I  will  tell  you  now 
How  I  intend  to  slip  past  Mautpre's  taken  vow 
Which  ev'ry  stranger  knight  from  out  this  castle 

rude, 

Lest  he  should  see  its  poverty,  would  aye  exclude. 
De  Mautpre  's  poor,  I  'm  rich — 

OLIVER 

You  know  him  not,  my  friend. 
It  will  be  useless,  quite,  to  offer  him  to  lend 
One  crown,  for  de  Mautpre  is  poor  but  proud.  Your 

gold 
He  would  refuse. 

CHICOT 

I  know.  Let  me  my  plan  unfold. 
Some  days  since,  pressed  for  gold,  de  Mautpre  told 

a  tale 
To  Julian,  Pierre,  and  Jacques,  of  treasure  in  some 

vale 

Of  his,  deep  buried  by  an  ancestor,  and  he 
Added  that  this  great  chest  would  soon  discovered 

be. 
Now  I  am  rich  and  I  this  treasure  chest  have  found. 


ACT   FOURTH  147 

OLIVER 

Found  it? 

CHI  COT,  laughing 
Yes,  and  have  found  it  on  de  Mautpre's  ground. 

OLIVER 
I  do  not  understand. 

CHICOT 

I  spoke  but  half  in  fun 

And  half  in  sober  earnest.  Hark  what  I  have  done ! 
De  Mautpre  has  within  this  castle  gaunt  and  grim 
A  priceless  treasure  which  is  half  unknown  to  him. 

OLIVER 
Unknown  ?  A  treasure  ?  Here  ? 

CHICOT 

Solange's  heart,  I  mean. 

OLIVER 
I  see.  You  mean  Solange — 

CHICOT,  warmly 

Should  be  a  crowned  queen 
Were  I  but  king.  I  love  her,  Oliver,  far  more 
Than  aught  of  all  those  things  by  which  men  set 

such  store, 

As  much  as  honour,  more,  far  more,  than  fame  or 
wealth. 


148  THE    JESTERS 

OLIVER 

And  so? 

CHICOT 

Her  father  I  mean  to  enrich  by  stealth. 

OLIVER 
By  stealth? 

CHICOT 

The  man  with  whom  you  spoke  my  servant  is, 
And  brings  with  him  a  key  of  gold. 

OLIVER 

These  mysteries 

Do  irk  my  patience.  What,  now,  is  this  key  of  gold  ? 
Speak  plainly,  not  in  riddles,  for  I  am  too  old 
To  grasp  their  meaning.  You  perchance  in  plainer 

speech 
Can  put  the  matter?  Then  do  so,  I  do  beseech. 

CHICOT 
I  will.  The  chest  which  my  man  Hubert  hither 

brings 
Contains  treasure  of  gold  with  jewels  and  with 

rings 

Out  of  my  store.  The  tale  Baron  de  Mautpre  told 
I  have  made  true.  He  has  but  to  enjoy  the  gold. 

OLIVER 
If  he  refuse? 


ACT   FOURTH  149 

CHICOT 

That  he  will  not,  for  I  have  taught 
His  lesson  to  each  man  of  those  who  now  have 

brought 

The  treasure,  and  each  man  his  tale  alike  will  tell 
And  like  de  Mautpre's  own.  Why,  man,  you  know 

full  well 
That  when  the  brass-bound  chest  of  gold  he  doth 

perceive, 

De  Mautpre  then  and  there  his  own  tale  will  be- 
lieve. 

Then  being  rich  again,  thanks  to  this  treasure  trove, 
My  hope  is  he  may  smile  on  my  tale  of  true  love. 
Now,  friend,  will  you  help  me  to  win  Solange  for 

wife, 
And  by  so  doing  make  me  your  true  friend  for  life  ? 

OLIVER,  after  a  slight  pause 
Aye,  that  I  will,  Rene,  for  I  believe  you  love 
Our  little  maid. 

CHICOT 

I  swear  by  God  who  throned  above 
In  Heaven  hears  me,  Oliver,  I  swear  I  do. 

OLIVER 
Then  may  she  find,  I  pray,  de  Chancenac,  in  you 


150  THE   JESTERS 

A  worthy  husband.  You  may  put  your  trust  in 

me. 
Tell  me  now  what  in  this  deceit  my  part  shall 

be. 

CHICOT 

Little  and  much.  Your  part  shall  be  from  yonder 

tow'r 

The  handkerchief  to  wave  at  the  appointed  hour. 
But  hush!  Somebody  comes. 

(Enter  at  intervals  MAUTPRE  with  s OL A NGE,  NAR- 
CISSUS, VULCANO,  and  BAROCO,  JACK  PUDDING, 

HILARIUS,  NICOLE,  JACQUES,  PIERRE,  and  JUL- 
IAN) 

VULCANO 

I  tell  you,  Baroco, 
That  you  shall  stay. 

JACQUES 

I  wonder  why  I  tremble  so. 

I  think,  i' faith,  tho'  armed  all  three,  we  are  afraid, 
Tho'  our  opponents  be  two  old  men  and  a  maid. 

NICOLE,  looking  at  NARCISSUS 
Were  mine  the  choice,  I  know — 

OLIVER 

Now  take  your  places,  pray ! 


ACT    FOURTH  151 

Our  tourney's  queen  will  choose  the  jester  of  Maut- 
pre. 
(All  arrange  themselves  a^mAcxTniRD) 

MAUTPRE 

Untrammelled,  free  as  air,  my  child,  select  the  fool 
Whom  you  have  chosen.  For  under  your  mimic 

rule 
Each  one  has  done  his  best.  Speak. 

SOLANGE 

Him  I  choose  is  one 

Whose  weft  of  pleasantry  and  fund  of  harmless  fun 
Have  charmed  me. 

JACK  PUDDING 

'Tis  my  portrait,  surely. 

SOLANGE 

He  can  be 
At  will  witty  or  sad. 

HILARIUS 

Sad?  Why,  she  must  mean  me. 

SOLANGE 

Whiche'er  he  be  he  charms,  with  wit's  unceasing 

flow 
Or  touching  metaphor,  our  minds. 


152  THE   JESTERS 

VULCANO 

'Tis  Baroco! 

What  other  of  them  all  with  his  gifts,  I  say,  can 
Have  won  such  praise  as  this? 

SOLANGE,  smiling 

Nay,  Chicot  is  the  man. 

VULCANO 

Chicot!  Nay,  fair  Solange,  awry  I  surely  hear, 
Or  you  have  failed  to  make,  perhaps,  your  meaning 

clear. 
Crook-backed  Chicot!  (Laughs  scornfully) 

NARCISSUS,  to  CHICOT 

YouVe  won  the  bet. 

CHICOT,  to  NARCISSUS 

And  happiness. 

BAROCO 

I  am  undone. 

VULCANO 

Come,  come!  What  means  this  foolishness? 
Do  you,  I  ask,  so  far  all  clear  perception  lack 
As  to  have  chosen  that  mountainous  crooked  back 
To  be  your  jester?  Nay.  You  cannot  mean  it.  Oh, 
I  understand.  You  would  but  jest  with  Vulcano. 


ACT   FOURTH  153 

To  see  what  I  would  say  and  do,  you  wished,  and  I 
Almost  fell  in  the  trap  you  laid  so  cunningly. 

MAUTPRE 
Chicot  is  chosen  by  the  queen.  The  tourney's  o'er. 

v  u  L  c  A  N  o ,  furloi  isly 
Chicot!  Now  let  me  not  hear  that  name  any  more! 

(To  HILARIUS,  JACK  PUDDING,  and  NARCISSUS) 

Be  off,  you  three,  at  once.  And  you,  sir,  too  must 
go.  (To  CHICOT) 

BAROCO 
And  I? 

VULCANO 

The  jester  who  shall  stay  is  Baroco. 

MAUTPRE 

Am  I  not  master  here? 

SOLANGE 

Father! 

CHICOT,  to  OLIVER 

Run !  Fetch  us  swords, 
I'll  make  that  braggart  eat  his  vainly  boasting 

words, 

I  have  no  doubt  that  he  is  quite  used  to  the  food, 
And  for  each  tear  Solange  has  shed,  a  drop  of  blood 
Shall  Vulcano  disgorge — 


154      .  THE   JESTERS 

MAUTPRE,  to  SOLANGE 

Fear  not,  my  child! 

JACQUES,  to  PIERRE  and  JULIAN 

To  act 
Now  is  the  time. 

MAUTPRE,  to  the  jesters 
Are  all  your  goods  and  chattels  packed? 
(Firmly)  Give  each  a  small  gift,  Oliver,  and  let 

them  go, 

Hilarius,  Jack  Pudding,  and  you  Baroco. 
Farewell,  Chicot  is  chosen  jester  of  Mautpre. 

VULCANO 

Not  Baroco? 

MAUTPRE 

Enough.  Go,  sirrah! 

VULCANO,  to  BAROCO 

You  shall  stay. 
My  word  is  plighted. 

MAUTPRE 

What  care  I  for  your  pledged  word, 
Are  you  the  master?  Ho  there,  some  one,  quick,  my 
sword! 

SOLANGE 

Father,  I  beg — 


ACT    FOURTH  155 

VULCANO 

Do  not  I  pray,  fair  lady,  balk 
Your  father  in  his  wish.  T  is  time  our  swords  should 
talk. 

CHICOT 

to  OLIVER,  who  has  brought  rapiers  to  him  and  to 

NARCISSUS 
Thank  you,  my  friend.  And  now  — 

OLIVER 

Nay,  wait  a  moment's  space, 
The  time  is  not  yet  ripe. 

VULCANO 
Once  more,  the  jester's  place 

Is  Baroco's.  (To  the  servants)  And  will  you,  with 
me,  not  essay 

From  Mautpre's  close-drawn  purse  now  to  extract 
the  pay 

Earned  by  your  labour?  'Tis  time  pride  with  beg- 
gared purse 

Stepped  down  from  horseback.  Ye  are  certainly  no 
worse 

Than  those  who  call  themselves  your  masters,  but 
refuse 

To  pay  ye  for  your  work  with  aught  except  abuse. 

JACQUES 
He's  right. 


156  THE   JESTERS 

PIERRE 

Aye,  he  speaks  sooth. 

JULIAN 

Three  cheers  for  Vulcano. 

JACQUES 
We  hardly  dare,  alone,  to  beard  the  Baron,  though. 

VULCANO 
Follow  me,  I  will  lead!  (To  MAUTPRE)  'Tis  you 

commence  this  strife! 
Now  pay  your  men  their  wage. 

PIERRE,  JULIAN,  and  JACQUES 

Our  money! 

VULCANO 

Or  your  life! 

(He,  with  the  servants  close  behind  him,  rushes  on  the 
BARON.CHICOT  and  NARCISSUS, each  with  a  sword, 
step  in  between) 

CHICOT 
The  first  man  who  advances,  dies. 

VULCANO 

One  of  you  go, 

And  take  away  those  toys.  'Tis  not  for  Vulcano 
To  fight  with  jesters. 


ACT   FOURTH  157 

(The  servants  are  frightened  at  the  determination  of 
CHICOT  and  NABCISSUS.) 

JACQUES 

But  each  seems  to  understand 
Right  well  the  way  to  use  the  weapon  in  his  hand. 

VULCANO 

This  is  absurd,  I  swear!  Varlets,  but  me  no  buts. 
'Tis  time  for  deeds,  not  words.  (To  CHICOT)  Your 
sword! 

CHICOT,  with  a  menacing  gesture 
Take  care,  it  cuts. 

VULCANO 
Do  you  hear  what  I  say  ? Disarm  these  two  mad  men! 

JULIAN,  very  gently 
An't  please  ye,  sirs,  your  swords  I'd  have. 

NAECISSUS,  laughing 

Why,  take  them  then. 

(The  three  servants  huddle  together  around  VUL- 
CANO) 

CHICOT 

Now,  Vulcan  o,  step  forth.  (Looking  him  up  and  down) 
So  'tis  this  braggart  here, 


158  THE   JESTERS 

This  long,  thin,  scraggy  loon  whom  all  of  you  do 

fear. 
This  windbag  whom  I  need  but  with  my  swordpoint 

prick 
To  empty  him  of  words  and  gestures.  This  great 

stick 

Of  uselessness,this  knave,  this  drunken  jumping  jack 
Whom  I— 

VULCANO 

I've  heard  enough.  En  garde!  Come  on,  Crookback ! 
I'll  cut  your  heart  out  and  will  have  it  cooked. 

CHICOT 

Oh,  no! 

You'll  eat  your  own  heart  out  with  shame,  my  Vul- 

cano, 
When  we  have  done  with  you.  (They  cross  swords) 

VULCANO 

Sa,  ha!  One! 

CHICOT,  parrying  his  thrust 

Two!  How  now? 
Your  breath  is  coming  somewhat  laboured. 


VULCANO 

Tell  me  how 


You  would  be  killed! 


ACT   FOURTH  159 

CHICOT 

I  think  that  I  will  live  instead. 

VULCANO 
Die  then. 

CHICOT,  parrying 

See  there.  Had  I  but  wished,  your  foolish  head 
Had  I  that  moment  cleft  quite  evenly  in  twain. 

VULCANO,  contemptuously 
Actor! 

CHICOT 
'Tis  true  I  had  not  met  with  any  brain. 

VULCANO,  thrusting  wildly 
Buffoon ! 

CHICOT 

Take  care,  my  friend.  One  more  such  thrust  and  we 
Shall  make  a  corpse  of  you. 

NARCISSUS 

Keep  him  alive  for  me. 
I  want  a  turn  with  him,  he's  given  me  offence. 

CHICOT,  disarming  VULCANO 
Then  take  him,  Narcissus,  and  teach  him  how  to 
fence. 

VULCANO,  looking  at  his  sword  on  the  ground 
Disarmed!  By  a  Chicot! 


160  THE   JESTERS 

NARCISSUS 

Come,  man,  and  let  me  try 
If  I  can  teach  you  how  to  fence  and  how  to  die. 

JACQUES 

Into  my  pouch  I  have  slipped  all  pretence  of  pride, 
Methinks  't  is  safer  for  us  on  the  other  side. 

(JACQUES,  PIERRE,  and  JULIAN  slip  over  unobtru- 
sively to  the  group  behind  the  BARON) 

NARCISSUS,  to  VULCANO 

In  carte  shall  I  transfix  you,  or  wouldst  rather  die 
In  tierce? 

VULCANO 
Look  to  yourself! 

MAUTPRE,  in  admiration 

He  fences  wondrously, 
So  does  Chicot!  I  ne'er  saw  such  men  as  these  two. 

BAROCO,  to  himself 

I  think  I  '11  slip  across  and  join  the  others,  too. 
(He  does  so) 

NARCISSUS,  thrusting 
There! 

VULCANO 

There! 


ACT   FOURTH  161 

NARCISSUS 

Insulter  of  old  men  and  maids,  your  tune 
You  now  must  change.  Yield  up  your  steel.  (He 
disarms  him) 

BAROCO,  with  a  sigh  of  relief 

Phew!  None  too  soon. 

VULCANO 
I  'm  done. 

MAUTPRE,  to  NARCISSUS  and  CHICOT 

I  thank  you,  sirs. 

CHICOT 

Bind  me  that  scurvy  knave. 

(PIERRE,  JACQUES,  and  JULIAN  rush  across  and 
secure  VULCANO.  BAROCO  follows  them,  carrying1  a 
piece  of  rope) 

VULCANO,  in  reproachful  astonishment  to  BAROCO 
You  also? 

BAROCO 

Vulcano,  I  am  not  over  brave 
And  so,  as  now  it  seems  that  one  of  us  must  die, 
I  thought  it  better  that  it  should  be  you  than  I. 
And  so  I  change  my  coat. 


162  THE   JESTERS 

VULCANO 

What  foul  ingratitude 
From  one  whom  I  protected! 

BAROCO 

Tush !  Be  not  so  rude, 
I  pray  you.  (HeJlicJcs  him  with  the  rope  end) 

MAUTPEE 

Whence  did  you,  young  sirs,  if  I  may  ask, 
Acquire  your  fencing? 

OLIVEE 
They— 

CHICOT 

Nay.  It  is  time  the  mask 

Were  thrown  aside.  My  lord,  before  you  now,  be- 
hold 

Two  men  of  your  own  rank,  attracted  by  your  gold. 
De  Chancenac's  my  name. 

NARCISSUS 

Robert  de  Belfonte  mine. 

CHICOT,  taking  off  his  hump 
As  for  this  hump,  I  wore  it  as  an  outward  sign 
Of  my  infirmity  of  wit. — T  is  false!  I  throw 
It,  false  as  his  vaunted  valour  is,  to  Vulcano. 


ACT   FOURTH  163 

MAUTPRE 

But  why,  sirs,  these  disguises  ?  And  where  is  the  gold 
Of  which  you  speak  ? 

CHICOT 

De  Mautpre,  we  were  always  told 
That  you  were  poor. 

MAUTPRE,  bitterly 
I  see.  And  so  that  you  should  know, 
And  tell  your  friends  that  I  in  bitter  sooth  am  so, 
You  came  here. 

CHICOT 

No,  my  lord.  I  pray  you  let  me  speak 
Unto  the  end.  We  came  a  treasure  here  to  seek. 

MAUTPRE 
A  treasure  here?  Indeed! 

CHICOT 

Aye!  One  more  precious  far 
Than  gold  or  jewelled  trash. 

MAUTPRE 
who  does  not  understand,but  w  very  angry 

Enough,  my  lord.  You  are 

Here  under  false  pretence.  And  I  have  made  a  vow 
That  none  should  come  within  my  castle  walls.  So 
now  — 


164  THE   JESTERS 

CHICOT 

You  bid  us  go.  But  let  me  name  ere  we  depart 
The  treasure  which  we  seek. 

MAUTPRE 

WeU? 

CHICOT 

Your  fair  daughter's  heart. 
As  de  Belfonte  and  as  de  Chancenac  we  knew 
That  you  would  not  admit  us  into  speech  with  you, 
So  we  assumed  the  jesters'  garb  and  hither  came 
To  woo  and  win  Solange. 

MAUTPRE 
For  shame,  my  lords,  for  shame! 

SOLANGE,  to  OLIVER 

He  is  of  noble  birth!  His  back  as  mine  is  straight! 
Then  'tis  no  shame  to  love. 

OLIVER,  to  SOLANGE 

No  longer  need  you  wait 
For  your  Prince  Charming.  He  is  here. 

MAUTPRE 

Nay,  sirs,  I  know 
Not  how  to  speak  my  anger  with  you  both ! 


ACT    FOURTH  165 

CHICOT,  tO  OLIVER 

Now  go 
And  make  the  signal.  (Exit  OLIVER) 

• 

MAUTPRE 

I  have  told  you,  sirs,  that  I 
Live  here  in  very  real  stress  of  poverty, 
But  we  Mautpres  are  proud,  and  love  our  name 

too  well 

Our  daughters  into  wedlock  for  your  gold  to  sell. 
You  have  been  welcome  here  as  jesters,  but  you 

came 

As  traitors,  gentlemen,  against  de  Mautpre's  name. 
Your  swords  have  pardoned  much.  It  was  a  youth- 
ful freak, 

And  of  it  I  will  in  view  of  your  youth  not  speak, 
But  now  the  jest  is  done.  Your  suit  of  no  avail 
Can  ever  be.  Solange  de  Mautpre  's  not  for  sale. 

CHICOT 
But  were  you,  good  my  lord,  not  poor,  but  rich? 

MAUTPRE 

Then  I 
Would  welcome  you.  And  now,  farewell,  sirs. 

(He  rises  and  takes  SOLANGE'S  hand.  CHICOT,  as 
she  passes,  whispers  to  her) 


166  THE  JESTERS 

CHICOT,  to  SOLANGE 

Prithee  try 
To  meet  me  here  anon. 


(MAUTPRE  has  been  listening  to  the  servants'  pleas 
for  pardon) 

JACQUES 

Lord,  hear  us  swear 
Renewed  allegiance. 

MAUTPRE 

Well,  string  up  that  braggart  there 
On  high,  and  pardoned  be.  (To  CHICOT  and  NAR- 
CISSUS) Each  of  you,  sirs,  our  guest 
Will  till  to-morrow  be.  I  go  to  take  my  rest 
Within  my  chamber.  Come,  Solange. 

CHICOT,  whispers 

I '11  linger  yet 
Here  for  an  hour.  Forget  not. 

SOLANGE 

I  will  not  forget. 

(VULCANO,  after  a  struggle,  is  carried  off  into  the 
castle  dungeon  through  the  postern  door.  NARCIS- 
SUS and  CHICOT  are  left  alone) 


ACT   FOURTH  167 

NARCISSUS 

Well,  I  have  loved  and  lost,  it  seems.  And  losing 

proved 
That  wit  must  triumph  over  beauty. 

CHI  COT,  meditatively 

Am  I  loved 

Indeed  by  sweet  Solange?  Can  one  so  wondrous  sweet 
As  she  return  the  love  which  at  her  tiny  feet 
My  full  heart  pours? 

NARCISSUS 

Indeed  she  can.  Why,  friend,  her  throne 
No  queen  of  love  would  care  to  occupy  alone. 
She  will  come  back.  I'll  leave  you.  (Exit) 

OLIVER 

Sir,  the  signal's  made. 

CHICOT 
I  thank  you. 

OLIVER 
Here  Solange  comes.  I  will  go.  (Exit) 

CHICOT 

Afraid 

Am  I  now  that  Solange  my  trick  may  disapprove. 
What  am  I,  after  all,  to  win  Solange's  love? 


168  THE   JESTERS 

(Enter  SOLANGE.  She  sits  down  without  speaking. 
After  a  slight  pause) 

CHICOT 

Surely,  sweet  maid,  because  your  poor  Chicot  must 

g°» 
You  will  not  scorn  him? 

SOLANGE,  gently 

You  no  longer  are  Chicot. 

CHICOT 

Oh,  do  not  think,  Solange,  I  prithee,  that  my  ruse 
Had  for  object  an  idle  moment  to  amuse, 
Or  take  me  for  a  thief  who  came  merely  to  pry 
Into  your  heart,  and  steal  your  friendship  only.  I 
Loved  you,  Solange,  and  sent  Chicot  here  in  my 

place 

To  win,  if  so  he  could,  some  little  of  your  grace. 
Then  when  upon  your  cheek  mantled  love's  rosy 

shame, 

Hoping,  I  sent  Chicot  away,  and  Rene  came. 
Believe  me,  dearest  heart,  and  to  me  plight  your 

troth. 
Chicot  has  disappeared,  Rene  loves  you  for  both. 

SOLANGE,  tenderly 
In  Rene  dear,  I  love  the  wit  of  poor  Chicot, 


ACT   FOURTH  169 

Whose  name  I  never  shall  forget.  And  always,  so 
Remembering,  I  shall  deep  down  in  my  heart  unite 
My  lovers  twain  into  one  long  complete  delight. 
(They  kiss.  Enter  OLIVER) 

OLIVER 

My  lord  Rene. 

(SOLANGE,  without  leaving  RENE'S  arms,  holds  out 
a  hand  to  OLIVER) 

SOLANGE 

Old  friend! 

OLIVER 

The  fairy  prince  is  here 
At  last  I  see.  I  pray  all  happiness,  my  dear, 
The  good  God  may  upon  your  golden  head  down- 
pour, 
That  you  in  joy  may  live  with  Rene  evermore. 

SOLANGE 
My  father  we  must  tell. 

CHICOT 
That  task,  sweet,  leave  to  me. 

SOLANGE 

That  and  my  life,  my  lord,  an  you  will  have  of  me. 

(DE  CHANCENAC'S  servant.,  HUBERT,  appears  on  the 
pathway  overlooking-  the  keep) 


170  THE  JESTERS 

HUBERT 

My  lord !  All 's  ready.  The  men  with  the  chest  are 
here. 

CHICOT 
Then  let  the  play  commence. 

SOLANGE 

What  play? 

CHICOT 

Nay,  nay,  my  dear, 

Your  life  you  have  but  now  entrusted  all  to  me, 
Wait  then  a  little  while,  Solange,  and  you  shall  see. 

HUBERT,  calling 

Hola!  Below  there!  Is  there  nobody,  I  pray, 
Who  cares  to  cany  good  news  to  my  lord  Mautpre  ? 

(There  is  a  great  stir  in  the  castle.  Heads  appear  at 
the  windows) 

JACQUES,  calling 
Good  my  lord ! 

NICOLE,  calling 
My  lord! 

JULIAN 
Lord! 

CHICOT,  tO  HUBERT 

Right  well  have  you  begun; 


ACT   FOURTH  171 

Bring  presently  the  chest  and  then  your  task  is  done. 

HUBERT 
Baron  de  Mautpre ! 

MAUTPRE 

Well,  sir,  why  this  loud  outcry? 

HUBERT 

I  bring  good  news. 

MAUTPRE 

Welcome!  De  Mautpre,  sir,  am  I. 
Who  sends  you? 

HUBERT 

I  am  come  from  Fol  Bois,  in  Touraine, 
Where  my  lord's  walls  run  with  the  walls  of  your 
domain 

And  castle ! 

MAUTPRE 

Castle !  Why  scarce  do  the  old  stones  hold 
Together  now ! 

HUBERT 
T  is  sooth.  Yet  there  has  been  found  gold. 

MAUTPRE 

Gold?  On  my  land? 

HUBERT 

My  lord,  deep  buried  in  the  ground 


172  THE   JESTERS 

Beyond  the  castle  walls,  last  week  two  peasants 

found 
A  chest  with  treasure,  and  my  lord  did  forthwith 

say, 

This  is  the  buried  treasure  of  old  de  Mautpre. 

MAUTPRE 
Old? 

HUBERT 

Old  Lord  Hector. 

MAUTPRE,  to  OLIVER 

There,  I  knew  it  must  be  true! 
(To  HUBERT) 

Where  is  this  treasure  chest?  Have  you  brought  it 
with  you? 

HUBERT 

Yes,  my  lord. 

MAUTPRE 

Bring  it  down.  You,  varlets  (to  PIERRE,  JACQUES, 

and  JULIAN),  were  afraid 
That  your  wages  would  ne'er  by  de  Mautpre  be 

paid. 

JACQUES 
My  lord! 

MAUTPRE 

And  you  rebelled.  It  was  enough,  I  trow, 


ACT    FOURTH  173 

That  Mautpre  pledged  his  word.  The  gold  you  shall 

see  now 

And  finger  some  of  it,  although  your  unbelief 
Refused  me  in  my  hour  of  need  the  least  relief. 

JULIAN 
Pardon  us,  good  my  lord. 

RENE,  to  OLIVER 

His  fable  become  truth, 
De  Mautpre,  as  I  thought  he  would,believes  forsooth. 

(HUBERT  appears  again  on  the  pathway  above  the 
keep  watt.  He  is  followed  by  four  men  and  a  horse 
with  the  treasure  chest  on  its  back) 

JACQUES 
Here  is  the  treasure. 

MAUTPRE 

Bring  it,  my  friends,  down  the  wall. 

HUBERT 

'T  is  heavy. 

PIERRE 

Here ""s  the  stairway. 

MAUTPRE 

Do  not  let  it  fall. 

NARCISSUS,  to  CHICOT 

Cleverly  done,  Rene. 


174  THE   JESTERS 

SOLANGE,  to  CHICOT 

Can  I  be  worth,  my  lord, 
So  great  a  chest  of  gold? 

CHICOT 

Now  will  your  father's  board 
Welcome  me  once  again,  for  he  is  rich  and  he 
My  treasure  thrice  returns  giving  Solange  to  me. 
(To  MAUTPRE) 
Well,  good  my  lord,  I  see  fortune  has  smiled  on  you. 

NARCISSUS 

Will  you  not  also  smile,  sir,  now  upon  us  two? 
We  stand  again  before  you,  humble  suitors,  and — 

CHICOT 

Each  asks  that  priceless  gift,  the  sweet  Solange's 
hand. 

MAUTPRE 

Speak  boldly  up  and  choose,  Solange,  be  not  afraid, 
One  of  these  two  young  lords. 

SOLANGE 

Father,  my  choice  is  made. 
(She  gives  her  hand  to  CHICOT) 
But  I  would  crave  a  boon. 

MAUTPRE 

Ask.  Ere  you  ask,  't  is  thine. 


ACT   FOURTH  175 

SOLANGE 

Then  let  Vulcano  live!  Hast  thou  thought,  father 

mine, 

That  if  thegallows-tree  should  with  his  body's  weight 
Break, — it 's  worm-eaten, — he  crook-backed  instead 

of  straight 
Like  my  Rene  here  might  become? 

MAUTPRE 

Well,  Vulcano 
May  leave  the  castle  with  his  good  friend  Baroco. 

SOLANGE 
I  thank  you,  sir. 

RENE 

And  I. 

OLIVER,  to  JACQUES 

Now  let  loud  trumpet  blast 
Summon  the  countryside  here  to  a  great  repast 
Where  all  shall  be  made  welcome.  Let  our  vassals 

know 
Fair  Solange  is  betrothed  to  Rene* — 

SOLANGE,  laughing 

And  Chicot. 

CURTAIN 


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